It's been two weeks today that he passed over. I wonder if I'll ever stop watching the calendar or the clock. About a month ago, I said a prayer. My prayer at the time was simply to let others see Jesus in me. I guess I thought that would be through something simple, like in community service or my getting back into singing. I never imagined that it would be through my grief.
1. On the way to church this morning, I missed my exit and had to get off at the next one. I was pleasantly surprised that my light was green and did not need to stop. But when the next light ... and the next light ... and 3 more were ALL green, I told my girls, "Look! Jesus is saying hello!" and then the last light was coming up. I told them, "Watch that light. It's too far to stay green. It's gonna turn red before we get there." But it didn't! It stayed green and we zoomed right through it.
2. We got to church and got out of the truck. They bebopped in without a care while I began to have my breakdown just a few steps later. I was a blubbering mess before and during the entire worship service. Every single song seemed to have been personally chosen for me!
3. If you don't know already, my husband was a tinkerer (and collector/hoarder). I sometimes called him my Tinkerbell. He would roll his eyes and snarl at me when I did. Since he's gone, there are multiple tinker projects around the property that I need to take care of. One of them is a big ol' Farm Pro tractor. It was running last year but I knew nothing of its history or what he was trying to do with it. So, I listed the thing and had some potential buyers to look at it today. The 3rd ones to show up brought their tools and stuff with them. They worked on this tractor for 4 hours to get it running. I sat there and watched them the whole time. And the whole time I watched them, I was bombarded by memories of him working on that old tractor and me standing by handing him the tools. Several times while sitting there watching, I would have a moment and remove myself to cry a bit, have a panic attack, calm down, and then come back to watch them some more. It was like I needed a "fix". I had to keep watching them to gain more memories. Later tonight, after sharing this experienWce in another forum, I received the following message.
"Cynthia, I first met you through post late last night and I thought about you a few times since then. I admire the strength you have .. You might not realize how strong you are ..Your faith is amazing and the first place you turned after your loss was your church service ... Now you find the strength to appreciate memories while watching others do what your husband once did ..I admire you so much. I am still too weak to rely on faith alone and it leaves me vulnerable and resentful .. I hope to have your faith one day. I am still too weak to imagine watching someone get my husband's tractor running..I admire your ability to harness the good memories and allow moments of weakness just to return to harnessing the good. I hope to find happiness in memories soon.. Your strength gives me hope."
I don't know what to think of this message. I feel alone in this journey and definitely weak, though I strive to be strong for the girls. I know there are others out there struggling with the same type of grief, and each of us feels as if we are alone in our personal hell. But I can't help but wonder if this message is an acknowledgment from God that he heard my prayer and is doing something within me.
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