Am I hiding, some of, or all of, how I feel? While I share words upon words, while I write and share, do I still hide? Do I take the emotions of the events I face, and compartmentalize them, file them away, all the while, not feeling? Or, do I feel, yet now show?
I have faced many things in this life, like so many others. There are those, who have faced things I never will, who have dealt with things that others will never understand how, you can face such a thing, and still survive. I have faced things, that would have some ask, how, do you deal with these things?
How do you face the bad times, with a smile? How do you face the difficult times, in strength? How do you walk in a way, that others will see, and wonder?
My husband and I were married for 32 years. While others have been with their loved ones for much longer, still 32 is a long time, over half of my life. Now, he is gone, left this life and moved to the next. I am left here to face how ever long I have without him. How, do I face this, and not crumble under the pain? The son we created together, is hurting also, he misses his dad, he regrets things, he wishes that things could have been different. How do I face my pain, and see his?
How do I go about this life, as if nothing has changed, when everything has?
After I got word that my husband had passed away, in another state, I had to be strong while I waited and dealt with everything involved in getting him home. In the preparations for his memorial services, in the many questions that would be asked, to which I had no answers. All of the emotions that would surface, or that would dwell just below the skin and make me want to hide away. I didn't leave the house for almost a week. When I did, it was only to go get the groceries needed to keep us fed. It took all the strength I could find, to accomplish that one activity. Answering the phone became a challenge, I became good at recognizing important numbers and ignoring the rest. Just talking, was hard.
When the day finally arrived, almost two weeks later, that we were able to finally lay my husband's body to rest, it took everything I had. Even as I walked upright, even as I faced all of those people who came to express their respects. Even as I watched and listened to the speakers. Even as I sat, staring at the spray across his casket, inside the trembling threatened, but did not spring forth. Was I hiding away from what was happening? Was I hiding how I felt? Was I facing and yet not?
Now, going on two months later, am I still hiding the pain? Am I hiding, or I am simply taking care of business as I can, knowing that once everything has been handled, I'll crumble? They said I would crumble after the funeral, but I didn't. I'm taking care of insurance forms, talking with people we owe. I'm trying to get a new furnace and money up to replace the roof of the house. I'm preparing to deal with probate needs. The list is still long and I try to focus on the necessary things.
I never knew, I could do this.
I can't do this. Not alone.
I find my strength, I find my peace, I find my comfort in my Lord. Hiding? Yes, in Him. It is the same as it was when I was dealing with the cancer and the treatments for it. I faced it with Jesus. I would take long walks, just to find the comfort that is in Him. I haven't done that this time, I've spent time here in prayer, but I'm thinking I need to get out of this room and into the place where the relationship grew so strong those few years back. When I walked then, every day, there was something new waiting on me to see, to photograph. There is no reason that would be different now. I feel the comfort of His presence while I go through this. I feel His peace, in the storm. I feel His strength, when I am weak. I feel, His guidance when I am confused. He has sent people to me, who have guided me with patience and understanding.
Am I hiding? Yes, I am hiding. I am hiding in the strong tower that is my Lord. I am hiding in His love, leaning on His strength, clinging to His robe, trusting that even this pain, will pass. I am clinging to Him, hoping that as I suffer, this small pain, my understanding of the pain He suffered for me, will grow. That His blood will wash over me and cleanse me of any doubt, any fear, any thing that might escape from me, that would weaken the witness He has entrusted me with.
I am hiding. I am hiding in Him, and in Him, is my strength, my hope, my joy.