So, I sat down to write a post because today is a milestone moment... at least I thought it would be.
Turns out it's just another day without my bride. Six months. Six, long and thick months. Let me set the stage before I keep writing on...
In a short summary of the past six months, I'd describe them this way:
- Month 1 - A whirlwind of a month that can only be described as 'Chaos made manifest'. I honestly don't remember much of this month. Aside from the final moments with Ash and a majority of the paperwork/funeral itself, I couldn't tell you anything else that happened during this period.
- Month 2 - A bit of a rinse and repeat of Month 2, except this is when reality started to hit a little more. External help began to curtail, the phone calls and texts diminished and it was full on Summer. There was no established routine and my kids has variable schedules. Loneliness started to peek its head in the door at times, but it was often drowned out by the overwhelming feeling of 1,001 tasks to do and that's not counting the other 500 that I didn't even know about.
- Months 3 and 4 - School started for the girls. There were loads of 'firsts' that came and went. Solitude and loneliness were much more prevalent. The 'newness' of being alone was wearing off which meant that the reality... the depth of that reality... was setting in and it led to a season of not really knowing what to do or how to handle pretty much anything. I just fired from the hip on most everything. Not a good approach, but it got the job done. There were spurts of seeing some good and grasping for moments of thankfulness and gratitude, but they were shrouded in this dark, thick air and got choked out nearly as quickly as they came within reach.
- Month 5 - ...let's take the summary of the past month to its own section
This past month has been an enigma of sorts. In some respects, I have experienced some of the toughest bouts of grief. I've wrestled with the fact that the future that Ash and I thought we'd have at some point died the day she did. I mean, I knew it did, but time is such a funny thing. As it marches on and circumstances continue to unfold... there are reminders or trigger points that bring some of that dead future to the forefront.
In addition to squeezing a deeper grip on the reality that the future is going to be different than I thought it'd be... there is also the fact that my life and my girls' lives continue forward. There is so much nested in that premise. Grief and all of its tendrils just wrap itself around EVERY aspect of trying to have any semblance of forward motion. Are we living where we need to? What does my career need to look like? Are there new/renewed passions? The girls' interests/extracurriculars? Personal life/Friendships/Dating/Remarriage? ...All of it is ensnared in this grief laden blanket that takes lots of dedicated time and thought to try and peel back the layers so there is at least some tangible path forward. That was a mouthful of a sentence, but it's a good representation of the complexity of trying to navigate life in a fruitful way.
So that brings me to today. Six Months. I foolishly (and irrelevantly) set a six month time frame on a lot of things. I thought that I'd have a game plan together on what the next steps in life would be by now. (See the list above) As it turns out, I'm just as dumb and blind as I was a month ago. Save one thing, I can see how foolish it is to try and set some arbitrary timeline against grief and major life events.
With ALL of that being said, let's talk about gratitude for a minute. By the Lord's provision, I was able to step away for a few days this past week. I went to a retreat with other widowers (Refuge Widowers), and it was such a God-ordained blessing. To be in the presence of 18 other men who 'get it'. We shared stories of our brides. We grieved the loss of our brides. There was a brotherhood from the outset, if for no other reason than we didn't have to explain anything or walk on egg shells or be responsible for anything else other than ourselves. To hear from other widowers who have been there before us and siphon off wisdom on how to navigate the complexities of family, futures and children in the midst of dealing with everything else. It was absolutely needed. A refreshing moment. I haven't had many of those since May 14. It brought moments of clarity for some aspects of life. It also stirred a drive to want to help other widowers. Having gone through these first six months and seeing plenty of situations where I would've loved having someone near who 'understood' (and was not a widow)... there is a unique equipping for those of us on this road.
There's such a sense of gratitude that's been built over the past couple of months. Ranging from reflecting on the time I had with Ash to the girls to things God is teaching me right now. There is so much to be thankful for. To know God's presence is sufficient and that when I'm at my wit's end, is when He holds my head up. I don't know how to describe holding gratitude and grief together in the same breath, but it's there. Does that mean I'm ok? No. Does it mean I've 'moved on'? No, because that's not actually possible. You don't 'move on'. You can move with/forward... but 15 years doesn't just disappear... it was time used to mold and shape and develop who I am and who these girls are. So, we carry grief from now until our race is finished. We do grow stronger to shoulder it more easily and forward motion is inevitable. But, gratitude and grief can absolutely coexist. In fact, I'd go so far to argue that gratitude is the mechanism by which grief is able to be shouldered more easily as forward motion happens. Where there is a lack of gratitude, there is a deepening angst and sorrow filled isolation... and that's where grief goes to get heavier.
Six months. Seems like it's been a lifetime since I've seen my wife's face (outside of pictures)... since I've heard her voice (outside of old videos and voicemails)... I miss her greatly. Always will. And yet, here at six months I find myself grateful that the Lord has provided over and over and walked me through some really tough days. I know that Ash and I had several conversations about what life would look like for me on the other side of her being gone. Those conversations were not my favorite. Living out this side of life is not my favorite either. But, she was adamant about 'being ok with living life as best as I could live it'. Like, obnoxiously adamant :) And so, as the Lord enables, forward motion is where I'm trying to get to in an attempt to honor 'living life as best as I can'. Gratitude and Grief
...Head down, eyes foward.
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