At first, I felt shock. Thrown into widowhood within a 48 hour period, the numbness like a weighted blanket enveloped me. After so many car accidents, so many cell phone calls of distress…awkwardly relief replaced the shock. It was hard. But in a weird way, it was easier. I no longer felt the responsibility of your happiness…the struggle of Polly Anna lifting the slimy pit Depression onto the Solid Rock…and after relief? Joy. Joy that you finally were at peace, resting in the Everlasting Arms. And it was easier, in a way, to not have that “second shoe drop” anticipation. You were home. And the kids were lucky they had me instead of you…

But then my grief evolved. The easy, lonely, sad but happy for you time became the “I think the wrong one died” time. The “you got the easy way out” time. The “living is harder than everything” time. Sorrow encompassed my being. Each breath a stabbing awareness that I am trapped in solitary confinement with the horrific knowledge that I can’t make my children comfortable ever again. We are forever changed.

Grief moved. Unable to thrive in such desperate circumstances, it had no choice. It slid off my chest onto the space beside me, between my existence and the rest of the world. It had to move. It needed its host alive for survival. Like an exhausted lover, it spooned me. Comfort lay close in its proximity-it no longer held me down, pinned under its weight. I could reach it and touch it when I yearned to feel close to you. Grief does that. It fills up the empty “you-shaped” space left by your absence. A cherished wound.

As time passes, grief evolves again. It’s no longer palpable. Though invisible it’s recognizable. Comfortable. You know this if you have endured mature grief. It’s ethereal with delicate wings that softly land through a song, a scent, a scene…scarcely touching the soul…then a tear…a smile…a joyful sigh…and it’s gone.

Autumn reminds us…change can be beautiful…and seasons change…

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven. Ecclesiastes 3:1

Trusting God with this journey…Deb