Tuesday, November 4, 2008

The end of the day

It has been a pretty tough day but tonight is the worst. I guess because I am here and Jim isn't.

I was going thru the day ticking off different things associated with different times and years. 9 am, our 5th anniversary we both called work and claimed we were sick. 11am, 1999 and we were on the road looking at the fall leaves. At noon on our wedding day, we were having the rehersal - yep rehersal and wedding on the same day. 6pm and we were getting married. At 8pm, our 7th anniversary and we were in Pennsylvania helping friends decorate for a late Halloween party.
Besides that I tried to remember places we had dinners to celebrate. It was always a big deal for us and we often would take the day off of work or make it a long weekend to celebrate by going somewhere.

In 2006 we went back to the church we were married in and relived some of those memories. That was a special weekend.

And I want to share a writing that was sent to me.

Dear Survivor: A Letter to You

It is said that death is part of life; that it is the other side of birth.
I believe that death can also give meaning to life, a meaning that may escape you now while your grief is fresh and raw, but which may someday bring a special quality of peace to your spirit.

As terrible as your loss seems now, you will survive it even though that may seem unbelievable right now. Once that happens, you will have touched upon a new and incredible inner strength.

But for now you may be a mixture of thoughts and feelings. Despair, longing, anger, guilt, frustration, questions and even understanding, tumble over each other, striving for but not quite reaching comprehensible sense and shape.

You seek relief. You need to heal.

It is a journey and you must work on it.

And so, cry.

The pain is real, but the tears are healing.

Often we must struggle through an emotion to find the relief beyond.

And so, talk.

Talk about your loss and pain. Don't hide or deny real feelings. Tell others that you need them. The more you deny something or address it in silence, the more it can claim destructive power over you.

And so, search.

Over and over, you will ask Why?. It is a question you must ask. Though you may never find an answer, realize that it is still important to wrestle with the why question for a time. Eventually, you will be content to give up the search. When you can willingly let go of the need to question why, it will lose its hold over you, but it will take time.

And so, speak.

Speak as often and freely of your loved one as you need to. He or she will always be a part of you. Not to speak of the deceased denies his or her existence. To speak of the deceased affirms his or her life. Believe that in time, the pain of loss fades and is replaced by precious memories to be shared.

And so, grieve.

This time of sorrow can be used to draw a family together or pull it apart. You may be one who needs to feel and express guilt so that eventually you will gain a more balanced view of your actual responsibility. You may need to give yourself permission to feel and express anger even though you think it's inappropriate.

And so, grow.

We know we cannot control all that happens to us, but we can control how we choose to respond. We can choose to overcome and survive it. When we choose to grieve constructively and creatively, we come to value life with a new awareness.

And so, become.

Become the most you can become. Enter into a new dimension of self-identity and self-dependence as you come to love others more fully and unconditionally. In letting go of love, we give it freedom to return to us. Become all that your loved one's death has freed you to become.

And so, accept.

Accept that in some strange way, his or her death may enable you to reach out with a new understanding, offering a new dimension of love to others. I believe in a loving God who is with us, offering strength, guidance and solace as we struggle with our anguish. I believe as we regain balance and meaning in our shattered lives, we can come to see that death can indeed bring a new meaning to life.


Sharon said...

Great letter, Betsy...I see you in so many parts of this, and am sure you do also.

May our Lord continue to strengthen you as you grieve, and wrap His loving arms around you --no, He isn't Jim, but He cares for you and will lift you up in time.

In the meantime, do continue to speak personally through your blog... Blessings,

Rach said...

The letter is beautiful and so eloquently states the truth of it all.

I pray your day ended with you finding some modicum of peace. HUGS