I made it through the first year. Gave myself a lot of grace for the absent-mindedness and spaciness of grief. Let my friends and family pull me through the year. I just relaxed into their love. Let it go.
I had this perception that once you got through the first year, you needed to stop expecting sympathy and help to be so abundant. You needed to grow up and deal with it. You can't take the energy out of family and friends forever. Hmmm...that was a wrong perception. We all need each other. And, I think the second year may be harder than the first....
With COVID came more isolation than usual. I am blessed that my job keeps me busy. The neighborhood friends started sitting outside at night in our socially distanced circle, and emotional needs for people were met. I have been seeing the local kids, who are fairly isolated too.
But in the morning, and at night, when you are alone, the memories that were pleasant became jumbled up with the memories that weren't as pleasant. I had read the warning not to make a super saint out of the one who passed away. I felt like I had a pretty good balance on that. Both Daryl and I knew we were not the easiest people to live with, that we had faults, and that the Lord made something good out of us anyway. His grace covered us daily. God gave us a wonderful marriage filled with lots of joys, despite the reality of our sinful selves.
Then, for some reason, I started seeing his faults, seeing things that weren't perfect. Seeing his feet of clay. Every weakness of his was running through my head. One of my boys and I were talking about it one day, realizing we had both been dealing with similar emotions. Daryl's last 11 years were spent dealing with cancer. And just as it might have been time to retire, he was gone. As a result, we missed the retirement years together. We missed being able to travel, do things that were just for "fun". We missed alot of ministry things we would have done. Chemo affected his personality sometimes. And somewhere in the midst of feeling sorry for myself (not the right perspective, just being honest here...) I started seeing his faults. He was a driven man...he was always on the go, always busy, always filling every 60 seconds full of race well run. As a result, we lived a full and fun life, but I was exhausted! I need recharge time, time to think, time to unwind. Time to clean a closet or sleep late. We were, truly, nothing alike, even though we pulled a yoke together that worked beautifully. And our differences did complement each other. I needed to realign my thoughts, to see the balance of the man with feet of clay and heart of gold.
And then, I pulled out my box of cards people sent me when he passed, and after I sent out last year's Christmas letter. And my sweet Daryl was visible again. I found a letter from a friend telling me what Daryl meant to them when they first came to our church. And how his teaching Sunday School stirred their hearts. And the note about how a friend "missed him with me". And the note about how this person couldn't sit in service, so she would sit in her car and listen to the online broadcast in her car. And Daryl would always walk past her car and speak to her, and made her feel like she wasn't alone. I found a box of stuff I kept from the kids over the years, letters to their Dad, pictures drawn, cards saved. Pictures in albums showing the amazing times we had following this natural leader through life. The picture books of a couple of trips with older grands. Rich memories. The balance was back.
And now, I'm figuring out who I am. I'm am confident in the Lord to lead me into what that looks like each day. I'm not afraid to do life without Daryl any more. I don't want to just exist...I want to make days count. I think this next step is going to be stepping out of the past season and into a new season. Seeing what God wants me doing today...and tomorrow...and the next day. I read a blog today that talked about grief being like a plant that gets uprooted and transplanted somewhere else. You had roots that were ripped apart. But you have to put down new roots and keep growing. I'll keep you informed....
