Aug 20 10:40pm – It has been two months since I… Since we lost Regina. Jun 20.
I feel I should say something. You have been encouraging me and listening to me share and you have gently supported and cared for me more than anyone could expect in my circumstance. Thank you so much. But I am still pretty hollow.
There are good things, of course. Friendly meals. Business slowly but surely getting taken care of. Good family and friends. Events and situations that are uplifting. Smooth sailing, generally.
But, even as tonight on a dark back road heading home listening to Steve Roach, the shock and emotion still comes out full and deep. It makes me gulp, swallow, choke. I can honestly say – there is no greater emotion that I have ever experienced than the one that comes over me when I feel the loss of Regina. It grabs me. Shakes me. Twists me. Then slowly departs – to come back later.
I was telling someone tonight – the emotions attached to this loss are something like I have never seen or heard of. Perhaps I wasn’t looking or listening hard enough but, regardless, the emotional streak runs long, deep, and sure in me.
It is true, though, that each quake of emotion brings with it a glimmer of hope at the end. Oddly enough. Just a snap shot of hope. It passes and I feel just ever so slightly renewed healed refreshed. Yes, I can survive these tremors. Yes, I can cope with this loss. Yes, I can get on after getting shaken and twisted. There is hope.
I am grateful for each of you who have supported and cared for me. Truly. But – and I will say this again – my path is one that I must pretty much walk alone. Not that you can’t walk with me – but I think you have to walk behind me just a little bit. You can tap my shoulder from behind. You can whisper words of encouragement from back there. You can give a small nudge, when needed. But I need to walk up and out of this valley just so I can be say and able to walk up and out of this valley, you understand? So I appreciate all and everything that you have and will give me – but I also see that I must spend some serious time navigating this journey pretty much as best I can – along with my faith and beliefs.
A kind friend who had also lost her spouse said something to me in the last few days. The idea she shared was this – I feel for you, Fred, and I am with you and I know how you are getting along but take it one day at a time, take it easy, take it slow, but keep moving.
Thanks. And, yes, I understand. As you do.
Providentially, this passage came up today in my daily reading:
This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.
I believe this. Even with the short spurts of sadness there is the longer and better day that I can learn – again – to enjoy and be happy all about.
Rejoice in it. Well, I will try.