Our stories

Shades Mountain, Bham

“But when we are grieving, it is our personal stories… that become so important. If we tell the story of our loved one’s death twice a day, three times a day, or more, and we still have the urge to tell it, then that is what we must do. The stories of our love, our life, and our loved one’s life are the most important pieces of information we have. We need to indulge ourselves, to hear the telling, to listen to our own words, to say the same thing again and again and again until we don’t need to say it anymore.” – from A Time to Grieve by Carol Staudacher

I’ve thought lately that maybe I’m writing too much about loss, too much about Chuck. But, then today I read this and I think I’m on the right track. Writing is my way of grieving and healing. And though I only have a handful of faithful readers, maybe somehow, somewhere, my words will touch someone that needs to hear them.

Texts from the past #7: I Corinthians 13

” vs. 5… does not seek its own…”

There were so many times that Chuck did things for me, not to gain anything for himself but just to make me happy, or to make my life easier.

April 18, 2017

Me: Thank you so much. You didn’t have to. Especially in that horrible traffic. C: I know but I wanted to and I could, I had time.  (He brought me something I forgot, probably my phone. I was subbing at Pelham High School that day.)

August 1, 2017

C: Your gas is very low. Do you want me to fill it?

Feb 27, 2018

C: Hey, would you be interested in eating out tonight since you’re going to be gone this weekend? Me: Sure, I’m going to get fatter anyway. C: Anywhere particular? Me: Either Beef O’Bradys or you can just bring home Jim n Nick’s. C: Hmmm, prolly bring J & N, my goal was to give you the night off.

July 13, 2018

(I was on my way to meet my cousin, Paula, in Arkansas.). C: Diagnosed diabetic. (I don’t remember this!!!!!!!). Me: Made it. C: Praise the Lord. You two enjoy.

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April 5, 2019

(Discussing the poetry meeting in Orange Beach) C: I’ll go with you unless you happen to know someone who might want to go. Me: Let me think on it. It would probably be boring for you. C: We’ll talk about it. I just wanted to help you enjoy it.

April 10, 2019

C: I was going in order to support something you love and because I hate to see you spend 8 hours driving on top of 6 hours of meetings. I was willing to do Driving Miss Angie.

Oct. 2, 2019

Me: I’m already planning to go to Tampa in January for Grandparents’ Day. Could I go in early November, too? C: Why not?

It’s the big and little things I miss. Having someone who will bring you your phone or fill your car with gas. Someone who offers to accompany you to something they have no real interest in so you won’t be alone. Someone who hates to see you leave, but knows your heart’s desire to see the grandkids or meet your cousin. Someone who seeks your happiness.

Texts from the past #6: Pop Culture/Iconic phrases

Most of us have favorite movies, cartoons, shows that we like to quote. It’s fun when someone “gets” your reference. Chuck and I had a lot of quotes, especially from Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?, Napoleon Dynamite, Seinfeld, Perfect Strangers and Frazier, to name a few. And Scooby Doo. As evidenced in our texts here…

Apri 6, 2017

C: Hey dearie, don’t forget to transfer the $1k from your savings. Me: Ok. My list of classes to avoid is getting longer…. (I was subbing that day) C: Ruh roh

April 27, 2017

Me: Didn’t know this was band class (I was subbing that day). C: Ruh roh. C: Hey I’m using the new microphone feature. It’s pretty cool. C: Just call me George Jetson. Me: Call me Jane

September 4, 2017

C: I’m about to eat something bad. Me: Ruh roh

I miss all the silly little conversations we had.

Our true home, part two

Our home – Bham – 12/8/17

“Smiling at each other, we realize we have the same song stuck in our head, a new song, neither of us have ever heard before. His humming of it sounds like flowing water. The robins and morning stars are singing the same tune. I feel a pulsing stillness. I don’t even notice that the usual sounds of sirens and cars aren’t there anymore, the static of news, the vibrating of phones, or creepy songs about seducing a santa baby. That all burnt up forever. The old order has passed away. Instead, I hear a pulsing stillness.”  –  by Fr. Jack (Priesthood from the Inside Out blog) in his thoughts about meeting St. Francis in heaven. He continues with thoughts of those he expects to see – “To my left, the kid I picked-on in 5th grade waves at me. I wave back shamelessly. He’s holding the hand of his daughter…I realize I’m holding someone’s hand as well, warm and smooth. It’s the unborn child I buried yesterday. He’s taller than me and has wild flowing hair. I’ve never met him before, but I know him. I know him. He only lived 12 weeks invisible in his mom’s womb, but I’ve known him ‘like a thousand years.’ He laughs.”

Reading the above I felt comforted. I like to think that Chuck is rejoicing with Mom and Dad and holding little Wyatt in his arms. That he was there to greet Tim and Ed when they joined him. I don’t know, I can only wonder.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me All the days of my life; And I will dwell in the house of the Lord Forever. – Psalm 23:6

A fellow weeper

December 8, 2017

“…Nothing tends more to relieve that overwhelming sense of wretchedness, with which the heart of the sufferer is sometimes oppressed, than a generous pity for a fellow weeper!”

“Your long and intimate letter gave me great pleasure. There is a sympathy in the feeling of people who have been recently afflicted, which cannot be expected to be found in others; a mutual chord, which, touched, vibrates with a kindred sound. We have not suffered exactly alike. But we have suffered; and that circumstance has made us love each other better than we did before.” – The Widow Directed to the Widow’s God by John Angell James, 1841

There truly is sympathy in people who have been recently afflicted. I have found this to be so true in recent months. I have connected with other widows who are suffering as I am. I have also connected with women who have lost a sister or a child. I never thought I’d have a need for a “group”. But, I went at the urging of my son. And I am so glad I found griefshare. I thank God for these fellow weepers.

Faithful friends

St. Augustine Beach

“The friends whom the freshness of your grief has gathered around you, will forget your loss much sooner than you will; and the force of their sympathy will have spent itself, long before the tide of your grief has ceased to flow. Few, very few, are the faithful friends whose tender interest is as long-lived and as deep, as our tribulation.” – The Widow Directed to the Widow’s God by John Angell James, 1841

I am blessed to have friends who still gather around me. They call, text, invite me to lunch. Their sympathy has not spent itself. I am thankful for their tender interest.

How tenderly

“To the widow of the departed Christian, there is another ingredient in the cup of her sorrow, another aggravation of the loss she has sustained, and that is—she is deprived of her own spiritual comforter and companion…How tenderly did he solve her doubts, relieve her perplexities, and comfort her in her sorrows. How sweet was it to take counsel with him on the things of the eternal world, and to walk to the house of God in company…but that tongue is now silent in the grave; those holy hands are now no more lifted up to bless the household; that mild scepter of paternal rule has dropped.” – The Widow Directed to the Widow’s God by John Angell James, 1841

Chuck was very tender when it came to handling my questions, my complaints, my sadness. He was patient with me.

I find I can walk into the house of worship alone, but sometimes I can’t make it through the service without tears. But, I did today, so it was a good day. I keep responding that I have good days and bad when people ask. It seems to have become strings of good days and strings of bad days.

“…those holy hands are now no more lifted up to bless the household; that mild scepter of paternal rule has dropped.” I found this to be so true during this first Christmas without Chuck. I had hoped to step into his place and lead the family in scripture reading and prayer, but it just didn’t happen. And I felt like a failure. I don’t know how to be the spiritual head of my family. This is part of the cup of my sorrow.

Rant in the time of shutterfly

I might just write this to get it out of my system and never post it. We’ll see.

I received what I consider the worst Christmas card of this year. Let me tell you why. First of all, it was addressed to A. Bell. Like junk mail, like from someone who doesn’t know me. Exactly.

On the back of the envelope is a handwritten line – from (insert name of church here).

So I’m thinking, it must be from my church. Sent out by someone I don’t know, but it must be a card from the church in general.

I open it to find a shutterfly, picture-perfect card of a family I’ve never met. I flip it over. More pictures, including the dog. No handwritten message. No signature. No Biblical message or scripture verse. Just a printed script about a trip they took and how 2020 was a different year with unexpected changes.

Yes, it was.

I search around and find this was from an elder in the church.

I leave you with your own thoughts.

Not a widow INDEED, but still…

I’ve thought a lot about widowhood and ministry the past few months. I mentioned it in an earlier blog post HERE . I’ve been saddened to see how other widows, not just me, have been neglected by the church. Widows who were and are faithful church members. Widows who have lost their husbands of many years, who were also faithful servants of God. One whose husband was a retired pastor himself. But where is the church in all of this? Even if these widows aren’t “widows indeed” they still need to be ministered to. At least checked on now and again by their pastor or elder or deacon.

“The Bible has much to say about ministering to one another besides the giving  of money…If you assume she (the widow) is fine just because she attends worship each Sunday, you are failing in your ministry to her. Regular visits at her home are the best way to fulfill the James 1 command… It is also the best way to know her and to interact with her so that she will feel comfortable divulging other needs.”  –  The Undistracted Widow by Carol Cornish

In my case it took me being the “squeaky wheel” to receive a call. Part of me felt ashamed, felt that I should be able to go it alone. I have brothers and children, so why was I complaining? Don’t get me wrong, my family and some friends have been a HUGE help and comfort to me. Yet, when it came to spiritual things, I wasn’t sure where to turn. I ended up pouring out feelings to a former pastor, one with a shepherd’s heart. And God, in His mercy, helped me.

The Lord intended for His church to be a support system, but we can’t be a support system if we don’t know each other.”  – Leaving Darkland by Ed Wallen

I see now that not knowing each other is one big hindrance. I see that it is a two-way street, one I hope to travel and become the one who ministers to other weary travelers.

Grandpa Mugs and spreadsheets

In my search for advice, empathy, survival tips on grieving, I’ve come across some helpful articles. One place where I found a relatable story was at modernloss.com

These words from Elaine Ross rang true with me:

We never had a sweeping declaration of love conversation.

For 18 months, I’ve been falling asleep hoping to dream the words we left unsaid; and I’ve been waking up hoping to come upon a letter he’d forgotten to give me.

I allowed him to take his last breath without saying those precious words?….

It wasn’t until I taped the last box of his clothes and carried it into the car did I realize what I had found in that closet. The business card on which I wrote my cellphone number down the night we first met, every Father’s Day card and birthday present and random art project the kids ever gifted to him, printed Excel spreadsheets with all our home vendors with phone numbers and contact names (which would have been helpful in those first days of widowhood), and pages upon pages of treatments, medical and natural. What I found was in fact what I was looking for: acknowledgment of how much he loved me and the family we created, of how often he quietly and bravely faced his own mortality, of how certain he was that I would know best how to find our way forward…

The deeper meaning, then, is not found in the things we said, because we didn’t, but in the way we approached our truth.

Some of the things I have found that let me know I would find my way forward were the books of his I have to read, the index cards of Bible verses, the baseball glove, the folder of letters, the grandpa mugs and “No, You Can’t Have a Sip” mug, the little black book of user names and passwords, the budget spreadsheets where he had slaved over the figures for months, figuring out that, yes, he could retire. Yes, we could make a go of it. We just didn’t know then that it would just be me making a go of it. But, he planned well and took care of me. God knew and He takes care of me.

Do I want Chuck back? Yes, with all my heart. Do I doubt God’s plan? No, but neither do I understand it.