The Prelude

You definitely left a big void Mary King, and I don’t know how to fill it. So this is how it’s gonna be for now huh? Mornings and evenings are bad enough, much less these Saturdays that just seem to consume me with the memories. Too bad it doesn’t leave me laughing and smiling when they creep in. Maybe one day they will. Just not today, or the other night when I was dancing with with you past midnight. Same song, same dance, over and over. I’d ask you each time for the dance. Funny ain’t it. You never turned me down. We just slow danced. And yes men, I held a damned three foot pillow we had on the bed as I danced, and I wept and eyes shut, held it like it was her. It seemed like it, at least for a moment. That’s what grief does.

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Saturday morning alarm means get the day started. Katie’s up, and Gypsies wagging her tail and loving it. Both of them, just sharing love on the couch. I’m drinking coffee and planning the day with Katie. Today is nothing! So, I go and pick up sticks, and weed eat, and then cut the grass. I shower, get laundry going, and Katie plans her shower for this evening.

I did not leave grief in the bed when I got up. Nope. It came outside with me this morning. Filling the mower with fuel, it crept in and reminded me Mary wasn’t here and that she would be in the house probably doing a load or two of laundry, cleaning, on the phone, or at her sewing station. I go deeper then, and remember because of cancer, in the past year or so she would be in the chair watching tv mostly and I would come in to see if she needs anything. So, no matter how many times I stand in the doorway looking into the living room where she sat, she won’t be there. No matter how many times I wake in the morning she won’t be in my bed. No matter how many times of anything, she won’t be here. It’s my sweet Katie and me, and that’s gonna be ok for now. Some how in all this, I have to move forward, and begin picking up some of the stones from the ruins of devastation.

…I had decided to write this as a prelude to the Moving Stones because I wasn’t sure I wanted to post it yet. I hesitated because some may feel it’s out of needed attention or to gain sympathy. I promise you, it is not. This is simply only to share my thoughts and be transparent. I know it helps me…so here we go. Maybe it’ll help somebody to see being crazy in all this is normal ..lol.. or maybe I’m just crazy.

No number of prayers, no amount of God’s grace, no matter how many encouragements, or visits from friends, no amount of text, phone calls, or cards, are gonna take away this grief. It follows and comes uninvited, but welcomed only because it’s part of the process. I know it will ease.

Moving Stones and Moving Forward

I don’t think there’s a right or wrong way for me to grieve or mourn. Guide books will help. The Jews had a great task ahead of them when they started rebuilding the temple from ruins, and with God’s help, it was accomplished. So, I’m just gonna do it the best way I know right now. I’ll read my book that’s been comforting a second time through, attending a grief counseling, spending a lot of time with Katie, attending church, talking to my buddies, reading my bible, praying, writing these notes on Facebook, playing my guitar, and then moving forward against the wind with God’s help.

Going through the motions of every day activities has at times seemed weighted. It’s been easy some days to just sit and do nothing. Like I could care less. But most days it’s all better and I really get through it just fine. I try to focus my mind on the good and pleasant things. (Philippians 4:8) I remember my special someone saying “I’m not gonna let this steal my joy”. She was facing cancer and made that decision, and lived it out till the end. So, I’m gonna try to have the same mindset as I pick up stones and rebuild, faced with challenges moving into this “new normal”. Mary King would be happy to know this.

I don’t believe, (I’m not an “expert”) that there is a certain way for one to mourn their loss and also try to move forward while in grief. Every person is different and will manage it differently. Correct me if I’m wrong please. I’m not sure there’s a book written with rules on how to go through this other than someone’s opinions and helpful guidance. I’ve heard nothing but words of encouragement so far from those who have been through this, encouraging me to do what ever I need to do and however I need to do it. Again, there’s no book on how to dress correctly, or who says you have to wait a certain length of time before you seek some companionship again, or return to work, or take part in activities/ministries you use to share in, doing this, or doing that. In Victorian times, there was a strict social code in place when it came to mourning. Widows had to wear black for two years or more as well as a lot of other complicated rules. Children had to wear black for one year. In 1980 it was slacked off to wearing black only at funerals. I wear black/dark because I like to wear black, which brings me to my point in all this, which is to for me begin moving forward after the loss of my beautiful bride, regardless of social expectations, judgements, or rules. I can’t sit still, and I don’t believe there are certain rules to be followed and many others may feel the same. I’m not thinking of myself alone in this, because I have a little girl (23 yrs.) to think about as well. She is doing great and setting a great example. I want to pick up all these broken pieces and try to get on with my life. Yes, I miss Mary very much and grieve for her, and the life we shared together was beautiful, so I can’t sit in ruins and be consumed with grief and expect to move forward. I’m choosing to move forward in a positive way, and if I have to stop and cry, or zone out, I will. Or if I choose not be involved in an activity just yet, then I won’t. But I’ll do this the only way I know for now, and I’m sure I’ll learn a few things along the way from counsel, theraphy, reading and prayer. I am just trying to make progress my way.

And two days ago, I moved the picture that was displayed in Mary’s memorial service from the living room to my bedroom. It was in there for almost six weeks. It’s now on the wall above the light switch as I exit the bedroom. That’s just another step or stone moved. Yesterday, I updated the photos in Mary’s two urns and placed them side by side. Moving stones. I’ve done several little things that may not seem like much to some, but these days it’s big steps. I’ll be taking more steps as well each and every day. A short article I read talked about how a loss isn’t just like a bruise and then gets better and goes away. No, it’s devastating and you sit “in ruins” and you can sit and get nothing done, or begin to pick up the stones and rebuild. That’s what I want to do! (see above)

So that’s what I’m attempting to do! I’m getting up from the ruins, rising up and rebuilding some things that I may force myself to do sometimes. Simply carrying on with day to day activity as before, only it’s much different now. When Mary was living and become unable to do as much, I cooked for us, but now being single again, I’m learning to cook differently. For one person. I’m not sure this qualifies as a stone, but it’s a learning process and a move forward. Katie has a completely different menu, so we don’t share meals but I fix her meals like I always have.

Working more in the wood shop again stirs memories, and that’s healthy. I do all of the things she did before at the home office desk now. That’s another stone moved. Making sure Katie gets to therapy, doctors, dentist, her grocery, Walmart, and dollar general store errands, is good too. And yes, Katie peed in a cup for a urine sample at the doctors office for the first time all by herself. Mary would be so proud. Does it hurt that she didn’t get to witness it? Damn right it does, but that’s another stone. My Granddaughter Laney attending church services with Katie and me is healthy too. We miss Mary sitting with us, so we’re accepting it as part of the new normal. That’s another stone, even though I’ve pulled back from involvement in some of the ministries. In time I’m sure that too will be a stone moved. Moving forward is different from moving on. I will still carry grief forever, and not leave it behind as moving on suggest. It will only change and be less frequent.

So, like the rebuilding of the Temple when the Jews returned from Babylon, I see myself attempting to rebuild life from the loss. I can continue to sit in the ruins (which still hurts when I dwell on my loss,) or I can choose to pick up the stones. Some are heavy, and some are just hard to move, but that’s ok. I’m trying to move forward. Everyone is different and moves at their own pace. I’ll still have plenty of stones to move in time. I may even stop at times when it gets too heavy to carry, but I’ll catch a breath, and continue to go forward, taking with me the grief, the wonderful memories, and God as my strength. May you also be encouraged to move forward too, finding your way through your foggy pile of rubble.