A fresh perspective is needed...

I heard from three elder wives on Thursday.  It was the weekend of the almost annual Elder retreat.  The one where they take their wives, and we laugh and talk and debrief and stay in an amazing bed and breakfast in Granbury.  And we walk around downtown Granbury and shop.  We have delightful fancy dinners with our husbands and each other. We make memories.  And Saturday morning, we girls sit and share our hearts with each other and pray for each other.  I know sometimes people think  that we all hang out with each other all the time, but we are actually spread out into different ministries.  Our husbands bear great loads as they shepherd the Lord's flock at Countryside.  And that time together is refreshing and encouraging and reminds us it's a shared load.

Several of the girls texted to say they missed me this year.  They have no idea how much it meant to be missed.  Others added their thoughts to me this morning at church.  So. Very. Special.

And...it opened the knowledge that one year ago, Daryl and I began the end of our story together.  The elder retreat was the weekend that we started the quick downward spiral.  I am so aware that now I will begin to have flashbacks to the events of last October to December.  I will re-live so much in my mind and heart.  And it's stuff I was finally, finally starting to forget.

I need a fresh perspective.

So much of life is filtered through human emotion and human ratings of "good" and "bad".

We aren't always right.

What we fail to see, so often, is the goodness of God in all things. That in our short sightedness of the "here and now" we fail to see the things that are to the praise and glory of the Father in the forever.

So, I shall try my best to look at the memories from a different angle.  The angle that this was not the beginning of my season of loss, but the beginning of the season of God calling Daryl to a most wonderful forever.  And I will rehearse His goodness at every memory.  And I will try my best not to think of what I have lost out on, like being an Elder's wife, having a husband to do things with, and having a life companion, but to watch to see what God writes as my next chapter.  Because, you know, He is good.  May it all be viewed as to His glory.

I Can't Help Falling in Love With You...

If you have ever experienced grief, and most people have, you know that it hits at very odd times.
I was sitting in a restaurant completing an inspection.  It was a very tiny Sushi restaurant, run by very sweet Asian folks.  The Elvis song, "I Can't Help Falling in Love With You" plays.  Overhead.  Right in my ears. Elvis. Sigh.  Daryl loved Elvis almost as much as he loved me.  First a little trickle of a tear.  Then two long trickles.  Then quiet sobs.  There were no customers in the tiny restaurant...just three very sweet young Asians who ran the place.  No matter how hard I tried to hide it, they figured it out.  One guy quietly brought me a sturdy napkin and walked a way.  Those sweet kids let me blow my nose, finish my report, and walk out without having to explain it all.  I did let them know the basics.  They smiled, and let it go.

Taking Every Thought Captive....

I learned early on in my marriage the lesson of taking my thoughts captive to the gospel of Jesus Christ.  Our hearts have been declared by God to be untrustworthy.  Eve trusted her emotions and heart and look where that got us....so I eventually began the practice of taking my thoughts captive and redirecting them according to what Scripture teaches.

So, when my thought paths stray from the Word of God, then I have to reign them in and quote Scripture to them.  Like Early motherhood when you would do anything for more sleep.  Or when the desire for a clean house became an unattainable idol.  Those life challenges that make you turn selfishly inward because you want what you want. And you long for what you can't have with a fervor that is debilitating, instead of finding contentment in where you are and in what God has you doing.  

Not long after Daryl passed, I had a pity party that lasted several hours.  Everybody around me was in pairs, getting to do fun, normal, middle age things together.  When I realized that I was starting to sink into self pity and self absorption, I had to step back and take those thoughts captive.  I reminded myself that God is good.  He is in control, and is sovereignly loving and kind.  To become aware of the fickleness of my heart, and that I was focused on myself and not on the Lord.  It's not that grieving is bad, or to be shortened. It's very real.  It's very personal.  It has to be embraced as part of loss.  It's just that I needed to keep grieving headed in the right direction.  Each day, I have to continue that process.  We had to do it a lot when we dealt with frequent fevers and antibiotics and hospitals and emergency rooms.  To be tempted to believe that God wasn't fair.  That He wasn't kind to my Daryl.  That it was all just too much and I couldn't go on.  I sometimes wanted to run away and just be normal.

But God wasn't to be glorified in my "happy normal place".  He was to be glorified in the battleground of caring for Daryl, emergency rooms, chemo, hospitals, doctors.  In the way Daryl endured with patience and grace those things that he was called to endure. And now, in my life alone.  And when I released my desires and trusted His hand, it was sweet.  Normal was not where we belonged.  We were together, and we were doing those things God called us to do with cheerfulness. Now I belong where I am.  Grieving with Hope.  Living in Hope.  It all keeps coming back to hope....

Who will call 911?

So....practical questions began to assail me.  Who will call 911 if I choke?  Or if I get really sick....who will know?  Fears pushed on my thoughts way too frequently.

I developed a plan for anything I could walk through, like choking.  I would call Linda next door and if I couldn't say anything, she would come looking for me.  I would head for the cul-de-sac, and if I passed out someone would eventually find me.

One big fear was my heart.  As a kid, I had rheumatic fever, and the family kept all my physical activity restricted.  Most of my extended family died with heart related things, and my sister and I may be the only family members without stents!

I (long story short) ended up getting a heart catheterization in Houston while visiting my kids.  It had been scheduled in Bedford for the next week due to a negative stress test, and I was pretty nervous.  Chest pains ended up sending me to the ER, (at the BEST hospital in Texas for heart related issues!)  and the catheterization revealed good, reasonably clear arteries.  Much of the fear dissipated.  I was a bit distressed that I had to rely on a test instead of my trust in my loving heavenly Father, but it was incredibly relieving to know my heart is okay.

I took a fall one day, and the Lord sent kind ladies to drive me to the Care Now, and other friends to take me to Baylor for a CT scan (the care now called me "of an age to check on brain damage").  All was clear.

My neighbors check on me if I'm late getting home.  They want to know that I am safely tucked into my house.  If I'm not home reasonably early, I get a query text.  I'm loved!

Through each of these emergencies, the Lord provided help.  And my confidence has grown in trust that He will provide me with someone to call 911 when and if I need it.

The Ring

When do you take off your wedding ring? That was a crazy hard question. I felt attached to it, and I also felt a little weird wearing it…like, I was lying or something. I couldn’t find any Emily Post advice. Friends and family all said “Whatever you want or feel like.” There was no Scriptural rule for wearing it or not. I needed a rule, a closure moment, something that would make sense.

On February 14, I woke up, knowing it was Valentines Day. And then I had my answer. Today was the day. I would wear it all day, remembering the joy of our 43 years together. Being grateful for his love, his faithfulness, and for my own love and faithfulness toward him. And then, I would take it off.

Which I did. It was perfect closure for a love well lived

Guilt Begins....and Ends

The adrenalin finally began to wear off.  At exactly the one month mark, I began to feel guilt.  Deep, weighty, pounding guilt.  Guilt over the choices I made.  Guilt over the choices I didn't make.  Satan truly is seeking to steal, kill, and destroy.  And he went after my peace. He attacked the one thing I had always been confident I was doing my best at:  being a good caregiver.   The accusations had just enough truth in them to give me great pain.  I was reminded that I could have had a feeding tube placed to help Daryl be nourished to regain his strength.  I could have had an IV put in to give him fluids. I could have called a doctor in and asked for more help in saving his life.

Every.  Statement.  Was.  True.

Maybe I shouldn't have let him go.  Maybe I didn't fight hard enough at the end.

I had the good sense to run these thoughts past others.  Matthew and Amy invited me over that afternoon.  As I confided my distress to Matt, he assured me that we had all made the decisions together.  That Dad would NOT have wanted to prolong what he was going through.  That I did the right thing.

I confided the next day in our friend Rocky, who had been through similar challenges with Sue.  His insights soothed my troubled soul.  He reminded me of God's sovereignty and goodness.  And how ludicrous it is to think that we have anything to do with God's perfect timing in taking one of His own home.  He reminded me to keep my mind in heaven where Daryl is, not on earth where he was.  To take my thoughts captive to Scripture and to what I know of God.

The next day Daniel affirmed what I had been told.  Once more, to remind me that we all made these decisions together, and that they believed that I was making the best decisions possible.  That I did the right thing.

You see, I let him go.  There was at point at which he stopped eating.  A point at which he stopped being able to swallow.  A point at which I could only give him strawfulls of fluids (Coke of course!) in the side of his mouth.  And a point at which I took my hands off of trying to save his life, and allowed him to gently go Home.  That was a moment in which I knew I was supposed to stop.  To turn loose.  My job was complete.  I had loved, advocated, fought, served, taught nurses, persisted, and generally stayed by his side through all of this.  I had the respect and admiration of the nursing staff of several hospitals and doctor's offices.  And now, it was time to let go.

I was holding his hand quoting his favorite song verses and Bible verses to him as he was ushered home.  He let out what I thought was a final breath, then suddenly inhaled, startling me!  I laughed and told him he pulled a joke on me.  Then he did breathe his final breath and was gone with a little "puff".  

I calmly let the nurses know that I thought he was gone.  I think the calm surprised them.  My task as Daryl's helpmeet was done.

I'm grateful for people who are walking this beside me.  I'm thankful the weight of the guilt was resolved.

It wasn't my fault.

It was God's goodness.

I'm Not Having To Do This Alone...

A lesson learned before, during, and in the days following the funeral, was that I did not have to do this alone.   These are some of my "Peeps".  In the midst of all the trials Daryl and I endured, this is family.  The picture just shows my immediate and extended family.  And not all of them were there.  Add to that neighbors, friends, church family, my work family....it was and is amazing to have so many people come along side me, and Daryl and I while he was alive.  

I've heard people say I'm strong.  Well, I am discovering a very wimpy, excitable side of me that Daryl helped me keep grounded and in check.  I will say that the Lord is strong.  I will say that the strength of family and friends creates a strong base of support that I stand on.

I don't think I had to go more than 24 hours without a breakfast, lunch, or supper invitation of some sort for the first month.  I think one of the kids has contacted me every day to check on me. Mom and my sister check on me faithfully.  My neighbors text me if the van isn't parked in the driveway at normal hours. People at church joke about getting to say hello to me "before the line forms" of people who want to know how I am.

I am doing a study of what God's word says about the widow.  It's interesting to note that the widow, the orphan, and the sojourner are linked in most references to widows.  God has a lot to say about His protective heart toward these groups.  His care of me (often through His people) is deep and satisfying.  I truly am not alone.  

And I am so grateful.