Today, April 24th marks one month since my husband of eleven years has died. I have grieved many things in my life and lost many people who were dear to me. But never in my life have I felt such a loss as I have felt since Ron has died.
There are many times during each of these past days when laughter comes unbidden, or sweet little things occur to warm my heart, such as a three-year-old singing to me on a video chat. But as joyous as those events might be, they do not secure a day without sorrow.
I am grateful for all such happiness. I am not the sort to seek out grief. But my emotions are strained. They seem capable of turning on a dime. Yesterday during two telephone calls, I had great fun and laughed with my eldest stepdaughter and with a former college roommate. But then I get internally angry with someone who treats the death of my husband like an inconvenience or a short-lived tummy ache. “Everything will be better tomorrow.” Really? That would be lovely, if true, but I am not recovering from something minor. I am recovering, if that is even vaguely possible, from the loss of my husband, lover, best friend, confidant, my partner in crime, and the one man who always had my back.
All I know to do is to keep on keeping on. I pray that the Lord will help me get through this. I pray that my friends and family will cut me some slack when I respond in ways that are less than gracious. I pray that I may step up to the plate to take care of business and not kneecap others who don’t understand this kind of loss. Beyond the world of my grief, I ask the Lord’s help for those fighting for their lives, or the life and health of someone they love.
On May 25th, one month, and one day from today, my Mom lost her husband, my dear Dad. They were married for 51 years, just two months shy of their 52nd anniversary. I pray that I can learn from my Mom’s example, how to keep on living with purpose and grace, after losing your best friend and dearest love.