From Darkness to Light

I’m not crazy real about November, I’ll say it like it is.  It was not without some anxiety, ok a LOT of anxiety, that I watched the days on my calendar move by swiftly and as every day passed it was drawing me closer and closer to the 29^th.   I tried to ignore it and other times I realized it was coming whether I wanted it to or not.  That one day that so powerfully changed the direction of my life and the lives of my family was coming.   This is not an ‘anniversary’, because hey, you celebrate anniversaries and this for me is not a celebration.  It’s a day that will always be a part of my life and a day that I will face head on because I have too, but I don't have to like it.

Memories of those final few months have been floating in and out of my mind over the past weeks.  Some days they are so clear it’s like watching a movie reel of my life.  There were those nights when I was constantly up with Wes trying to protect him from falling, having the alarm set on my phone so that I could give him his meds through the night, then came the seizures, the 911 calls and the ambulance rides.  But, those were things I could at least help with and then there were those moments when I felt completely helpless, the times he would reach for my hand unable to speak, the sadness in his eyes confirming that he knew he was losing the battle and trust me, I will never forget that look and what made it even more difficult was the fact that he was no longer able to communicate, but we all knew what he was thinking without him saying a word. 
 

He didn’t want to leave us.  

So, one year has gone by and there is sometimes this misconception that after one year of grief, poof, you will magically be happy.  Grief is not a short sprint, it’s a marathon.  I can say though that the crushing pain of loss doesn’t come as often, the tears have lessened…somewhat…depending on the day.  And even though I can move through my day seemingly effortlessly to the outside world I still go to bed every night with a hollow ache in my heart.  I have accepted my loss, not always graciously mind you, but I am redefining the course of my life and that is not an easy task. 

If there is one thing I’ve learned this past year it is that grief is a very powerful thing.  I don’t feel as though I will ever work through it, but I am learning to move with it.  I know those times when I’m struggling to appear stronger than I am and that's not a good thing, fighting against what I'm really feeling, well that only gets me emotionally exhausted.  I know myself well enough to know that the more I fight against it the more I can become angry, discouraged and depressed.  Then I believe when God  gets tired of watching me stubbornly try to do this on my own he sends someone to reach out just at the right moment and then it is through that experience that  I can feel the light slowly taking over the darkness.  I am not alone.

I have survived this first year.  I have not done everything well, I will be the first to admit it. But, I have found a semblance of peace and together with my children and grandchildren we are forging a new way of living and we never pull back from sharing memories and we are not afraid to speak his name, Wes, dad, papa.

A number of months ago I was sharing with Nick how difficult I was finding life, particularly all the decisions that I now had to make on my own.  It would be so much easier if Wes were here so we could decide these things together, continue to dream and to live life the way we had always planned.  Nick looked at me and said, “Yeah, I know that.  But, he left you people”

Yes he did.  I’m thankful for the relationships that we have been blessed with through the years and how those relationships are now standing in the gap for me including many people that I don't even know that well and yet they reach out exactly when I need someone to reach out.  To be surrounded by so many loving people! is a huge blessing!  I have received so many messages and texts this week that offer love, support and prayers because they know how tough this day will be.  

I had a really sweet moment one evening this week when I had the opportunity to speak with one of Wes’  teachers and she began to cry as she talked about what a ‘good boy’ he had been.   I held her hand and we simply cried together.

And then there are the little things, like my sister-in-law Val sending me a text every day this week, with lots of heart emoji's, to remind me that they are still praying and that they love me or my sister-in-law Lorna who sent me a text yesterday morning just to warn me that it was slick outside.  Now to anyone else they’d think “Ok, that was nice” but for me it was more than that.  I was putting on my coat when I got Lorna’s text and as I walked down the stairs I had memories of Wes calling me first thing in the morning to tell me to be careful because it was slippery on the highway.   The tears ran as I climbed into the truck, ok, I admit it I sat in the truck and did the ugly cry and yup, there went most of my makeup!   But, oh it’s so nice to feel their love!

On Monday I went through some stuff in my basement and found our old 8mm cassette’s with footage of Wes and the boys in the bumper cars at Tinkertown laughing and playing.  The boys were so little and Wes had hair!  Then there was a short clip of him on the Ferris Wheel and then on the roller coaster with the boys.  There are more cassettes that I need to go through, but I have to take my time, watching our fun family times is not easy, but it is so good and I'm so glad I recorded those moments.

And so I have decided that maybe I will celebrate this day.  Not by remembering Wes’ death, but by remembering his life.  I am very grateful for the good life I had with a godly man who was my best friend and who cherished our time together as much as I did.  

                                                                                                                                                                                 

Until we meet again, I will remember.

Our engagement picture

Micah 7:8 “Though I have fallen, I will rise.  Though I sit in darkness, the Lord will be my light.”