Day 40
Forty
days…40 was a common theme in the Bible.
Jesus was in the wilderness for 40 days.
It rained for 40 days and 40 nights while Noah and his family rode out
the storm in the ark. Moses tended his
flocks for 40 years after fleeing Egypt . The Israelites
wandered for 40 years. Caanan was spied
on for 40 days. Goliath taunted Saul’s
army for 40 days. Forty seems to be a
number associated with trials and sometimes punishment. So does it have any significance for me? Oh, I don’t really think so. I doubt I’m going to awaken tomorrow on day
41 and realize that I have passed from darkness into light. It takes longer than 40 days for broken
hearts to heal. But I do find the whole
concept of numerology interesting. I
think sometime I’d like to do a study on all the times “forty” is mentioned in
the Bible.
I had
Paul officially removed from our bank account today. At first, the lady at the bank said they
couldn’t do that. Looking back, I think
she was assuming this was a divorce situation.
I told her I didn’t want to change bank accounts because of the
automatic debits I have and we’d just have to leave Paul on the account
then. Later, she suddenly decided that
she could remove him! So I got
that taken care of and opened another savings account at the same time. It was sad.
Bit by bit I am erasing Paul out of my life.
It’s big
because not only is Paul leaving but I am having to assume sole responsibility
for things I used to share, like our finances.
That’s scary. I bought a
microwave today, all by myself. I’ve
never done that before. We’ve been
through several of them, and as appliances go, a microwave is not that big of a
deal. But still – we used to make these
kind of decisions together.
Bigger
than that even, I verbally committed to purchasing a vehicle from a lady at a
church and I expect to write her a check and drive off in my new van this
coming weekend. I am confident in this
decision and I had some help in making it.
But, it hurts because we always, always consulted on big things together
and made the decisions as a team. I have
help, I’m not alone. But I don’t want
help. I want Paul!
Today was
difficult. I just miss him so much. I am told that time will help, but I am
baffled how a half a person ever becomes whole again.
At the same time, I am recognizing that I have a choice. I can spend the rest of my life lamenting about what could have been, what should have been, and all the dreams that have now been smashed to pieces. I can remain mentally stuck in the past. Or, I can choose to embrace my new life. I don’t want a new life. I want what I used to have. But I don’t have that choice. My only choice is my attitude. I don’t think I’m at the point of “embracing” yet but I know eventually I will have to choose it.
Last
night I went to my mom’s of sp. Needs group.
I love those women – absolutely love them. As a group we have grown so close, especially
in the last year I would say. Amy, who
heads us up, made the comment that we tend to view the trials in life as
“detours.” We’re so anxious to get back on
our regular path after being forced to take one of these detours. What we don’t realize is that these detours
aren’t really detours after all. They
are the path that God intended for us to take all along. Of course, right now I feel like I’m sitting
by the side of the road, kicking my heels on the rocks. I don’t want this path! It has sharp rocks and there are weeds poking
at my ankles when I walk. It has so many sharp twists and turns that I can’t
see very far ahead. The other path I
was on had the occasional loose stone, but it was pretty smooth. It was familiar. I knew where it was going.
I got
home around 11 last night, which was not unusual. My friend Jenny and I went to Orange Leaf
afterwards. We love that place. Actually, the last time I was there was on
Paul’s and my last date in May. We had
gone out to eat and then I insisted we go to Orange Leaf. He was in awe of the different choices and as
we ate our frozen yogurt, he asked, “Why hadn’t you taken me here
before?!” So that rushed through my mind
as Jenny and I stepped in the door. We
had a really, really nice time talking.
I got home and about had to peel David off the ceiling. He was worried sick that I was dead on the
highway because I was so late. Poor
kid. I just didn’t even think to call
him because it has never been unusual for me to get home late on these
nights. But he didn’t know that. And all those other times he still had two
living parents. He sobbed, “I’m just so
worried that you’re going to die, too!”
Oh-h-h, David…my heart cracked a little bit when he expressed that. These poor kids – they seem to be doing so
well most of the time, but their lives have been shattered just like mine.
David
spent last week at camp. He said he
enjoyed himself, which made me glad. Camp
would post pictures every couple of days on Facebook and I would anxiously pore
through them, looking for ones of David.
I never saw any of him which fed my fears that he was spending the week
in his cabin, crying. But he said he
made a friend, which is what I had prayed for him. My sweet boy spent his money on a gift for me
at the camp’s gift shop. That didn’t
surprise me because that is David. But I
was still touched. He found a
hand-crafted sign on a rustic looking piece of tree with Psalm 147:3 lettered
on it, “The Lord heals the broken-hearted and binds up their wounds.” He said, “I thought we all could use this
right now, Mom.” I hung it in the back
room. It may never come down.
Sunday
night, as per custom, the just –returned campers gave a testimony to the church
of their week. David spoke about things
he had learned, including facing “impossible circumstances,” which is kind of
the theme up at camp this summer. He
commented that had been very helpful to him since he is in his own “impossible
circumstance” right now with the death of his dad. He spoke very eloquently and I was both proud
of him and touched by what he said. Because of his age and his personality,
though, David lacks the self-assurance
and confidence that Will has when speaking publicly. Later
he lamented to me that he had forgotten half of what he had intended to
say. I told him that he had said exactly
what God wanted him to say.
All this
heavy stuff…but I actually do have something funny to end with. I think I am laughing more these days. It’s progress. Today I happened to look up in time to see
Lizzie hauling off and hitting Sam. Of
course, I was all over her about that in a nano-second. Sam chimed in, “Yeah, my Sunday School
teacher told us that the Bible says it’s very wrong to ever hit people
back!” Wait a minute…hit people back? I turned to Sam and asked, “Did you hit
Lizzie first?” He shrugged and
said matter-of-factly, “Well, yeah!”
“Did you
know that Bible also says that people should not hit other people first?”
A note of
wonder crept into his voice, “It does?”
“Yes,
Sam…it does!”
Oh,
boy…and I’m supposed to do this all by myself from now on?!
Thanks for sharing the laugh! Sounds like something one of my boys would say!
ReplyDeleteBy the way, it isn't so much as you are erasing Paul out of your life. He has gone ahead of you and you are doing life without him by your side.
And it is tough. I don't know if we ever are whole again. It is like we have lost an arm and a leg, we heal and learn to accept and adapt to the way we are. We gain strength, but I've had several days lately where I very much still feel like half of a whole person. And I must cry out to Jesus to help do the things that take two.
Didn't get you texted tonight, but I am praying for you and your family. HUGS
I think attitude is important, but you also should let yourself grieve and do poorly for a time, because reality is this is supposed to be hard. I pray for God's peace and comfort and DIRECTION for you. So many choices, and such a hard road.
ReplyDeleteI don't know if you've read the book A Grace Disguised by Gary Sittser. He lost his mother, wife, and 4 year old daughter in a terrible car crash. It was the best book on grieving after we lost a child to miscarriage.
God bless, Laraba