…and breath…. . What a month. What a week. What a day.
Taylor and I made plans to run out and get our few groceries we need tonight. That frees our weekend for her to finish her final paper, due in two days, and me to work on the house for graduation.
The best laid plans… .
I get home from work, shut off the van, step out and turn to pick up my purse. All normal, right? I turn around and Taylor is standing directly in front of me, red faced, teary eyed, lips swollen and she just keeps saying,”I’ve got to get out of here! I’ve got to get out of here!”
She was doing the dishes when she heard sirens. They were getting louder and closer. She stepped out the front door and our yard was full of cars. There was a sheriff’s car, and two ambulances at the neighbor’s house. He had been having a lot of strokes lately and told me a couple of weeks ago he was lucky if he could walk straight.
10 weeks to the day from when Archie went home, our neighbor passed away. It was deja vu for Taylor and she was freaked out. She wanted to leave! Run! Everyone and everything, she feels, is dying around her! I hugged her and told her we could go or stay, whatever she wanted. She said we had to go in and take care of the pups (she’s a great “dog-mom”).
We went in, got the fury kids tucked in and she started unloading about how everything is just a mess right now. How is she ever going to finish her last paper, and two days before her final is due? She was at her end.
My first question: Have you prayed? Yep. I took her by the arm and led her to the living room, pups following. Dash: up on Taylor’s lap and in her face. He knows she’s not doing well and he doesn’t want her to hurt. Dad’s dog, trying to give comfort.
We talk about how it feels like it’s never going to be alright again and how it feels like everything keeps getting worse. She had opened the hospital bill for $72,000, that they are getting angry because insurance hasn’t paid it yet and she’s was reading their warnings.
We touch on why people turn to drugs, alcohol, sex, or whatever because moments in life can be shear agony and overwhelming. We then talked about how all of these “fixes” are incredibly temporary, and then realty comes back, only this time even more screwed up with the consequences of the “fix” choice. Vicious circle, vicious circle.
We talked about how Grief Share says we have to make it through the first year. How do we think we will be living at the end of the first year? Same house (Lord willing), same cars, hopefully different “us’ “. Less broken, a little more healed. We tried talking about what it would look like to live the way we want to see ourselves in 9.5 months–seems like an eternity.
We hate the thought of wishing away time, but we know there is no rushing through this. If you open an umbrella too fast, you can pop the top off. If you pour a root beer in a glass too fast it overflows with foam and you loose all the root beery goodness to a puddle on the table. You can’t rush those things…just like you can’t rush healing from grief.
We had a broken heart to broken heart discussion and we both survived.
Psalms 73:26 “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”
We are both grateful that God is our strength of heart. If our only view of this world was standing still, watching the world die one piece at a time, we would not have hope, our hearts would be and stay shattered from constant loss. We both know, however, that the end of one beautiful creation is just the beginning of another’s journey, like when a flower dies but reseeds and begins another round of beauty. There is always hope(God’s strength of heart) if we fix our eyes on the creator instead of the creation.
Though painful, we made it through another day. And breath… .