Wedding Song - God Knew That I Needed You

Monday, December 16, 2019

FACING YEAR 2 AS A WIDOW – THINGS I HAVE GROWN THROUGH

One year ago, 2 days ago, I became a solo sojourner on Earth. When that happened, I remember feeling like a deer caught in the glare of head-lights: suddenly startled, momentarily blinded, and shockingly paralyzed in place.
Midway through the first year of widowhood, I started to regain solid ground as I started to reflect back on the first 6 months of the first year as a widow. Though it was always a hard and fast rule in our marriage that the past would remain firmly in the past, I broke my own rule and peeked backward occasionally. I needed to identify and note any progress I made forward – haltingly and limpingly - in order to figure out how I was going to deal with continuing forward.
Was there progress? Was the progress beneficial and useful going forward? So, facing my second year living widowhood, here is year 1 boiled down to things I learned/grown through in my first year as a widow.

Survival is possible. The first days and weeks after losing my husband I wasn’t sure how I’d survive, or if I even wanted to: Bob had been my whole life for all of my life – I fell in love with his face when I was 10 years old; I married him when I was 17 years old:
(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/08/it-took-while-but-we-finally-got-there.html).

He had died twice – and returned to me again twice; before I was even a bona fide adult:
(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/10/herbs-sorrowing-slide-show.html).

While we both walked the Valley of the Shadow of Death last Fall, we both knew he would not be returned back to me this time; Bob went Home last December:
(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2018/12/goodbye-2018-welcome-2019.html).

And I was left to find my way out of the Valley and back to the Land of the Living … pretty much alone.

Bob had had the audacity to leave this planet during the holiday season ...

...people were unavailable; they did not want their holiday season (Labor Day through the New Year festivities) inconvenienced or ruined with my grieving. The absence of my husband’s physical presence in my life highlighted the cracks in my life’s foundation that could be ignored and somewhat patched when he was still walked among us as a flesh and blood man – now he is gone, and the cracks have widened, creating widespread chasms I am not sure can ever be breached. The pain of the loss of him in my life, and the ever-widening chasms was unbearable at times. I cried a lot during that time of walking alone.

I also became a no-nonsense-survivor - Bob is not here, I am the only one looking out for me:

I can look back now without crying, and see, that though it was scary – and at times, messy; that alone time serves as proof that I can do hard things … mostly because I HAD to, not because of some phenomenal strength of character. In fact, there were times when character was seriously slipping as I reconnected with the badass side of me I had buried after marrying Bob. I resurrected her, and I survived.


I do not believe Elohim is shocked with her resurrection; nor do I believe that Elohim is admonishing me to rebury her. At this point in time, I believe Elohim understands that I need her in order to blaze my new path in my new life. Elohim was with me in my past badass days – He is with me in my present badass days – and I do not presume to know what tomorrow holds ... so only tomorrow (if there is one) will know how He will feel about my badass self tomorrow. As of today, I make no apology for how others perceive my badass sass. I am owning my actions - and others will have to do the same; I will no longer carry the brunt of their actions.

There’s no more time for other people’s bullshit.
I am making headway.
I am a survivor.

And Elohim is in my corner. I am confidently moving forward.
My Inner Circle has changed. I really struggled with disappointment and hurt over the lack of cohesiveness with family and friends who were shallow at best … and just plain absent at worse. Bob had expected it, but hoped with his dying hope, that when he was gone, we could all come together to be the family he knew we can be. When he was gone, and they fell short (as we both knew they would), I felt abandoned. I KNOW: they weren’t there before, and they proved they will never “be there”, but hope springs eternal; and I WAS hoping - I was honoring Bob's hope. It was unrealistic, given their natures.

I have learned; I have grown.

I’m looking back today with a little more “extra grace.” And I’ve moved forward. Without them. As the raw pain abates and my bleeding heart heals, I’m recognizing with gratitude the new people that have emerged in my life as the others fell away. The people who are genuinely concerned about me … the people who are sincerely praying for me and selflessly wrapping me in their love-support-and friendship, have risen to the top like rich cream. So instead of floating in the turbulent sea of hurt; sucked under by disappointments, I am focusing instead on the new, beautiful sunshine of the people Elohim has placed on my path to walk alongside me.


I’m getting better at letting go of hurt, disappointment, and undeserved negativity. It is liberating.

I’m starting to embrace – and be thankful for – the shake-up of my inner circle. I need people around me who will walk with me, encourage me, and help me build a new life on the remnants of the old life … without stoning me with the fragments of my old life. People who understand what Yeshua meant when he said to the eager stoners of so long ago, “You, who are without sin, be the first to cast a stone at her” (John 8:7). Bob and I lived our entire life together with that Scripture at the forefront of every disagreement. Our 44 year marriage had some rough patches (ALL marriages DO; those who say otherwise are liars), but stones were not allowed to be thrown. I can say, with absolute truth, that our marriage was a happy and good marriage. We never used stones to tear each other down – we always used stones to build stairs to lift each other up.

Bob was more than my husband; more than my lover.

Bob was my best friend ...


...we built each other up because we loved each other unconditionally. There will never be another Bob - but I believe there are people out there with the same character traits as Bob exampled. In my new life, I want friends that share some of Bob's character, in my life.



Going forward, I want people in my life who will help me rebuild a good - and solidly good - life. My soulmate is no longer here; I don't need stone throwers ... I need people in my life who will love me at least half as much as he did. And stand beside me as he always did.


The pain doesn’t lessen. I cry softer and maybe even less frequently these days, but the pain really hasn’t been minimized. It’s just changed. There is more of an acceptance now. I’ve learned to live with the tear in the tapestry of my life that can never be “fixed”. There will never be another Bob – he was unique, he filled my life, and now he’s gone: there will never be another Bob. That tear will always be evident; my new life will not change … too much … the dynamics of my life tapestry; my new life will only help me live victoriously, and add color back into that tapestry. The pain is not as intense, but my heart is far from calloused; my wounded heart still bleeds, and misses Bob. I cannot say with any certainty that that will ever change. But I can assuredly know that Yeshua will be walking alongside me, helping me, in my solo sojourn.


Despite the occasional unexpected tears at unexpected times, and the bleeding pain that is not so intense anymore, I am content. Except for the loss of my husband in my life, I really do have a good life.



I will not ever be the same person again. 12 months into this new life, I’ve realized the old me is gone. She started disappearing with my husband’s physical death, and the falling away of shallow family and friends totally erased her. In her place there is emerging a new, developing person that begs to be discovered. She’s slightly familiar but not quite the fully recognizable badass me from the past. Year two is going to be about embracing her, defining her, and giving her full rein to become what my new life needs to live fully and successfully.


I miss him more now. Looking down the maw of year 2 on this solo sojourn, I see more reality than year 1 revealed. I see a long road ahead without Bob beside me, and the influence of him in my life, had on my old life. This new truth is a very lonely one: there isn’t much of my old life left, and very few people from that old life crossed over into my new life. I guess year 1 knew I couldn’t handle all at once all of the revelations year 1’s Period of Adjustment would require of me; so, the hard revelations came at intervals, making it easier to face the stark new pages of the chapters of my life story to be written in year 2
(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/11/period-of-adjustment.html).


Memories fade. I have not experienced the fading of Bob’s voice, or his laugh (I still hear it clearly), the way he stood, walked, lay in bed (I still ‘feel’ these phantom sensations) – but the memories that will fade, are the memories we, as husband & wife, as a team, will never make again. Some memories will resurface at different times in life … like memories of making daytrips to the mountains of Washington and Oregon, that resurfaced the other day driving home from Scappoose and seeing clearly both Mt. Adams and Mount Hood in the distance … and knowing I’ll never have another memory of going daytripping with my husband ever again. I don’t want to lose those memories, and yet, they are fading. Bob is no longer here.

Other people’s grief, loss and pain affect me greater than before. I am now keener to the pain of other grievers. When I see a Flag-flying motorcade honoring a veteran, or I hear of someone who has lost their spouse, my heart isn’t just heavy, it’s shattered for them. I know what the grievers are experiencing – what they will be facing. While I was always empathetic before, I am more so now. I can truly identify.

Depression is a real thing and Faith is still a choice. I am thankful that I have not at any time been snared by the depression demon, but I will say that there have been at least 2 instances where I could literally feel depression starting to settle over me. Thank God for the strength of my Faith! I was able to shake it off without needing outside or pharmaceutical help to shake it off, but it was the real deal and I am thankful Yeshua was at my elbow to help me conquer it.

And speaking of faith – it has been tested this year. I haven’t lost it, but there have been many times where anger surfaced and I’ve been very close to losing my sanctification; and several months where I was disengaged from Elohim because my mind and heart was numb with grief and I didn’t feel anything for anyone. I was simply existing and doing the best I could to put one foot in front of the other without thinking too hard about how to do that. But I always knew Elohim was close at hand … and He always knew that sooner or later, I’d shake off the effects of grief funk. I have always, since I was 8 years old, trusted Elohei 100% with my life; trusted Him to be in my life 100% no matter where my life was at, or where it took me during the course of my life. Being bumped from Wife to Widow could have sent me spiraling in a direction where Jack Daniel and the Marlboro Man could have easily moved in and set up camp – but that never happened. I honestly did not even feel a twinge to invite them to come sit with me. I am thankful that in Yeshua I have good council, and in Elohim I have solid footing. The past 12 months have been testing months for sure, but I chose to grab onto my faith as my husband slipped away from me and entered into his new life beyond the clouds; and I chose to grab onto my faith as the foundations of my old life crumbled and fell away … and Faith held firm: it never wobbled.

Faith in my Faith is still my choice for moving forward in my new life.

God is good all the time – and all the time God is good.

There are still moments that come out of nowhere and take my breath away. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, and time doesn’t make the heart and mind any smarter. There’s evidence of this belief nearly every day. There are times during my day – like example: I was working on a project one night, and got excited about the way it was coming together and looking good. I wanted to share it with Bob because he always gave me good input and encouraging feedback. I smiled, thinking of his smile when he saw it, and got up out of my chair and half way down the hall … before I realized he was no longer back there, sprawled across the bed, watching his silly redneck programs. My feet came to a slow halt and the smile faded from my face. I didn’t cry; but I was startled that I had forgot he was no longer here in the flesh. Moments like this, can continue to steal my breath away.

Grief amnesia is a real thing.

There’s no more time for other people’s bullshit. When raw grief cracks you wide open and leaves you helplessly exposed, you quickly learn what’s worth hard work, what’s worth your depleted emotional energy, and what’s not worth any of your time or energy at all. Year 1 has revealed there’s no room for other people’s bullshit, or trauma drama in my life anymore. It has taught me the importance of focusing on things that really, truly matter. I have learned – up close and personal – how fleeting our time on Earth is; and I am determined to make what little I have been granted, count for all it is worth. I don’t know what the future holds for me, but I am determined to live it laughing more, being loved the way I deserve to be loved, and appreciating the small moments more.

It’s still a long road ahead, one I can’t look down for very long periods of time because spending time trying to foresee or trying to mentally manipulate the future is futile. Heading into year 2, it’s still very much a 1 day-at-a-time scenario. But, I, am setting the pace now. Sometimes that pace will be slow and painful; and sometimes I’ll surge ahead with speed.

But I’ll keep moving forward, one step at a time.


Those who want to come alongside me on my solo sojourn are welcome: those who don’t, don’t have to … and I won’t drag then along. Elohim walks with me; some people are uncomfortable with that. I can't help how they feel. I will continue walking, and learning, and growing, and getting comfortable in my new life - with Elohei.


Elohei is REAL - I will not argue that fact with anyone. Anymore. A.T.A.N.Y.T.I.M.E.

Life is short.


Life is gone in a heartbeat.

My life is mine, and it is an important life as long as Elohim grants it to me. No one else gets to judge how I live ... or what they perceive I did in my past life/will do with my new life. They are NOT Elohim, no matter what kind of God-complex they are feeling.

There’s no more time for other people’s bullshit:
(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/11/hitching-up-my-wagon.html).

I am taking the lessons learned, and the new growth with me into my new life with the advent of 2020.  And we will see where it goes.

We will see where it goes ...