Has someone ever told you they were going to the ocean, and when they do, you remember your last ocean visit and how you loved it? "Bring me back some salt water and sand" you might say. They even sell little jars with water and sand in it, labeled, "souvenir from Wildwood." I told a friend of this and said, those jars are probably made in China.
This is how I feel about Jim. I want to bottle some of him. I want his words, his pictures, his hair, HIM, so that if he goes, I can have a piece of him any time I want to. And I don't know how to capture him.
And then I thought about those jars of water from Wildwood. They make you smile, but it's not like you're really at the beach with the sand between your toes, tasting, smelling the salt air and sunshine. It's not the real thing. The souvenir jars of Wildwood water eventually end up in the garbage or landfill.
That's how it will be if Jim dies. I can touch his hammer, and know his hand was on it, but won't be able to feel his hand. I can lay on his pillow and know his head was on it, but I can't touch his hair. I can go to the cottage that he built with his own hands, but it won't be like me and him standing in front of it, hand in hand. I can go to Chincoteague, the same cottage we stayed at and stand in the sand, but he won't be there. We won't see that red breasted nuthatch together, or catch crabs together. This is killing me? What do I do with this?
It's like when I used to work. I used to say, "If I only didn't work, I would....." And then when I didn't work anymore, I couldn't remember all the things that I said I would do. That's what it's like now. Jim's laying in bed and I want to be with him and I go and lay down next to him, and he's sleeping, and I'm bored. If I leave, I think but but but...someday I'll wish I could just lay there beside him. And yet I can't do it more than 10 minutes without thinking "it's nice to look at him, but it doesn't change anything. IS ANY OF THIS MAKING SENSE TO ANYONE?
My sister loves to take pictures. She has stacks and stacks of them. "Why," I ask her. "Don't you know that they are going to end up in a landfill some day. I have my mother's pictures. Many are faded. We don't even know who some of the people are. When I'm gone, they are gone. Johnny may keep a few. He'll probably even though many away that he is in. How many pictures can one have of the same beautiful face?
So, I know there is one good thing about that. When my "jars of Wildwood" my pictures, my stories, my memories are in the garbage or landfill, I will be with the Lord, and with my dear husband and mother and others that I love that have lived for Jesus.
But what do I do in the meantime when Jim is gone, and I so desperately just want to be able to lay next to him and look at him if he's sleeping? I'll swear then that I could do it for 24 hours straight, nonstop. I know me. What do I do when I want to feel the sand in my toes, smell the sweet scent of my husband through the salt air, and all I have is a souvenir jar of sand and water from Wildwood?
Me, Gloria
4 comments:
"What-if land" is a dangerous place to visit. Come back from there.
Can't say I know exactly how you feel cause I'm not there, but I went there in my mind when Sam got his diagnosis. Now I try to avoid that place.
Remember being a little kid and running ahead of your Mom or Dad and they yell, "Wait up." or "Slow down, I can go that fast." "Or, something's going to jump out at you and I won't be able to catch you if you fall." Or something stupid like that. Or maybe your Mom was more like some people's Mom - "If you break your leg, I'm going to kill you!"
Don't get ahead of God. Wait for Him. Use your "oars" to row to Him and trust that he will flood you with grace. He has a plan for you if and when Jim goes home to be with Him. He will use you for his purpose then too.
My kids always used to tell me to, "Take deep cleansing breaths, Mom." when I was upset about stuff and Sam always used to tell me, when I was worried, that, he had it under control. That would sometimes make me mad and content at the same time cause I want to be in control. Now we both say that, "God's got it under control." Meaning we can relax.
I'll be praying that God will give you His peace that passes understanding.
Maddy
Sorry, I couldn't call you back, Maddy.
Actually, I do have peace. I hardly cried at all today. :-) Even though,
"What-if land" may be very close in sight.
It's kind of hard. I don't want to live in the "what if" land. But I don't want to ignore the giant polka-dotted elephant camping out in my living room, either. I guess that's what I meant by, "what do I do with this." What-if land is not where I dwell. Thank you Jesus. But I know it's potentially there.
And trust me. LOL. If God heals Jim, and all this preparation for grief was for nothing...well, that is one lesson I will really be thankful for. ;)
I can't wait to talk to you on the phone.
Love Gloria
Dear Dolly,
Your blog really touched my heart. I totally feel for where you are right now. I think you are right on track in what you are feeling and how you are feeling it. It is true that sometimes people only think the worst and walk through sorrow that will never happen. You are not doing that in this situation. It would have been wrong of me last year to plan my funeral when I found a lump on my breast and indeed I had to fight the enemy who wanted me to be overcome by sorrow. Yet, that reaction was out fear and uncertainty rather than reality. When I finally went to the doctor it turned out to be nothing more than a cyst. But you better believe if I had incurable breast cancer, what was once fear and a wrong attitude upon finding a lump, would suddenly be appropriate and the right approach. There is nothing unhealthy about planning your funeral when you are about to die. In fact I think that is the most emotionally healthy place to be. People in our society are so afraid of death that we all hide our head in the sand as if it isn’t happening and as if it won’t happen to every single one of us! People long ago, who watched death all around them and had wakes in their homes, were very familiar with the process and prepared themselves while their loved one was still alive. I think our grieving process gets all out of whack because we refuse to grieve when our loved one is critically ill and then are in shock when they leave us.
Anyway, you and Jim are going through the hardest time of your life. We all continue to pray for Jim’s healing but facing the progression of this disease is reality. It is not a lack of faith nor is it rushing a head and grieving prematurely. When God heals we don’t have to guess and wonder if he heals we will KNOW it and all rejoice! Yet, when we see disease it is emotionally healthy to accept that there is an elephant in the living room. Denying that the elephant is there can be very dysfunctional.
This time with Jim will be bitter sweet but I truly feel that the grieving that you do with him will make the grieving that is still left undone easier to do when he is gone if God chooses to take him home. The more you can walk through this process together the better. I have seen that grieving is a process, a journey, and that many people who have spent the time grieving during a loved ones critical illness actually have a much easier time when their spouse is gone. They’ve already been on the journey of grieving and thankfully have been able to do it while their spouse is with them. I think this is much more natural and emotionally healthy than denying the illness until your dear one takes his last breath. Then you are left all alone in your grief and shock.
Dolly, you are beautiful and your life shows the grace and strength of character of a mature woman of God. Thank you for sharing this journey with us who love you. I imagine it is very difficult to open yourself up every few days and share with us exactly how you are feeling. Thank you for your courage to share openly with us.
We love you!
Rach
Wow, Thanks Rach. I was hoping I wasn't missing it.
I would never have thought that my life could ever show the grace and strength of a mature Christian woman. Gulp!!
I feel more like small mouthed bass---noooooooo, make that a LARGE-MOUTH bass, out of water, flipping this way and flopping that way in a desperate attempt to get back into the water where I can breathe and life is normal.
Glad you see me in another way. After all these years apart, you still bless me with your e-mails. I love you.
You guys are going to be awesome in Mexico. I'm so excited about what God is going to do through you.
I love you
Dolly (GLORIA FOR MOST OTHERS)
Post a Comment