Hiding?
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.
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