My Dearest Myra

Sunday, June 1, 2014

My dearest Myra,

What little I know of history suggests that the "season" of mourning lasts for a year--particularly when losing a spouse. I'm halfway through month number ten now and I ponder what makes the anniversary marker so significant. Pain this severe doesn't heal in a mere year. Perhaps the "year of grieving" is intended as much for the mourner's family and friends as anyone. It gives them the option of saying, "it hasn't been a year yet" as though the mourner can be excused until then.

I'm sitting on my deck this morning and I wonder. What happens afterwards? Will my license to grieve expire? Will my mourning privileges be revoked? Does sympathy become derision, an accusation that I refuse to move past it and get on with my life? Do they expect the hurt will magically cease on the 18th of July?

To this very day, tears come from nowhere in the span of a few blinks of the eye. Even now, the agony that simmers within boils to the surface without warning or even a logical provocation. When will I reach the day that I can rein in these unexpected emotional eruptions? Ever?

Perhaps "moving on" really is just choice. I don't know. I just don't see how healing can co-exist with these memories I dare not lose. I want nothing more right now than to wrap my arms around you and squeeze forever. Nothing! Just to whisper in your ear and see the answer in your eyes, I would trade the rest of my life for that one brief moment. God as my witness, Myra, I would.

I look back on my life with you and find that I am so very grateful for so many things. As with any marriage, we had our share of trials and hardships, but we had a rare devotion, one not experienced by many, I think. Nothing separated us. Nothing beat us. Every problem we faced made us stronger, more committed and made our bond of love deeper. Our mutual triumphs brought us mutual joys and enriched our union.

I do not have many of the regrets that other widowed spouses have. I see little shame and much satisfaction in our twenty-nine years. I see how we each made the other better. I see our mutual appreciation for what we both brought to our relationship and how we each enabled the other to grow and blossom, becoming the beauty we each saw budding within the other.

Is it then any wonder why I still grieve? How can my days in mourning be any fewer than the days that lie before me? And how can I hurt less on the year-plus-one day than on the first day I lived without you by my side? Some pains lessen with time, but this ache will last a lifetime.

Eternally cherishing you,
The one whose heart you'll always hold,
- Jeff

Six Weeks Report Card

When I was in middle and high school some thirty-five years ago (wow!) we received those dreaded report cards every six weeks. Mom had to sign them to prove sneaky little students weren't scamming the system.

It has now been six weeks since I lost my perfect-for-me wife. While I don't expect anyone to sign and return this report card, I wanted to let everyone know how I'm faring.

Overall, I think I warrant a B on my report card. I consider this to be phenomenal seeing as how I expected a D-.

Most expected my biggest challenge would be the quiet, empty house. It's not. It isn't easy, but in truth, the solitude gives me the privacy I need to grieve unrestrained. There are, however, two significant hurdles in my path.

Hurdle #1: I can't keep my mind from returning to the ICU and reliving the event (the whole day, really) that changed my life forever. This is something with which I will have to deal eventually. It's the only aspect of the grieving (or healing) process I've intentionally deferred. It sets me to borderline panic. I will get through this, but it will take a while.

Hurdle #2: Guilt. I feel guilty when I spend hours upon hours moping, mourning and weeping. I know she doesn't want that. She wants me living, loving, writing, experiencing joy and making the most of myself. However, I feel guilty when I do that too, as though I'm ignoring or forgetting or even betraying her somehow. I hope to come to terms with this one soon. It's unbelievably distracting. And guilt can quickly become an unhealthy emotion.

I give myself an A in the regrets category though. Of the few regrets I have, most are not major or significant. We were unbelievably happy and content together. We did well all the crucial things required for a joyous marriage. We also did well in avoiding (or quickly correcting) those things that can divide or even destroy an otherwise thriving marriage.

For Myra and me, love was not a state of being, but an action stemming from choice. I usually call that commitment. Commitment is something we had in abundance.

So there you have it, my report card. I'm still on hiatus (or summer break if I stick with my theme) and am unsure how long I will remain so. Prayers and well-wishes are still welcome and appreciated.