SECOND YEAR SLUMP

I think, at this point in my journey, I’m somewhere on the bottom end of these “stages” – and I gotta say that I am surprised to be there. I think … all things considered … I’ve really done pretty okay these 430 days/14 hours & 18 minutes since my solo lobo journey began: and losing my entire family nucleus as well. But lately, it’s been hard: real hard.

I have been told that the second year is worse than the first: I could not comprehend how anything could be worse than that first 6 months of raw grief and the following months of heart-rending missingness – but now I understand that the loss of my husband in my present life is a low, consistent frequency between heart and brain that hums away in the background … and then suddenly intensifies to a crippling frequency; seemingly at the drop of a hat. But, on closer inspection, the hat drops always occur at specific times. Widows and widowers tell me this is the “hypnotizing death march”: an unconscious macabre dance with the calendar timeframes that remember exactly when the Grim Reaper and his imp, Grief, invaded your happy personal space and turned your life tipsy-turvy with a maddening and vicious shake of a cosmic wrist.

It is sinking in that I can expect this nerve-wracking occurrence to be a life-long ‘thing’. Christians are not exempt from experiencing deep sorrow – Yeshua, Himself, experienced hematohidrosis (a condition in which capillary blood vessels that feed the sweat glands, burst under extreme physical or emotional stress) while praying in the Garden of Gethsemane days before his crucifixion. Scripture tells us, “Being in anguish, He prayed so earnestly and fervently, his sweat was like drops of blood falling on the ground” (Luke 22:44).

I don’t feel guilty for sorrowing – but I do feel a little guilty that my ‘drop of the hat sorrow’ at times, bleeds over onto my friends; who are doing everything humanly possible to help me get through these hard days.

My friends are great – and I’ll be spending time with them again this Thursday; I would not have made it this far with my sanity intact if not for Cheryl & Pam. And, of course, my small circle of friends at Keenager’s too. But Cheryl & Pam know me … they’ve been in my life just about as long as Bob was – and like Bob, they radiate love in my direction. I am blessed.

I’m 414 days/14 hours & 18 minutes into my 2^nd calendar year without Bob physically present, and that just drives home the fact that time is moving the reality of him further and further away from me: I don’t like that encroaching reality. 

I guess I’m realizing just how alone-a.l.o.n.e. I really am. Yeshua was alone too - he had his 12 disciples, and throngs of followers ... but at the end of the day, He, too, was alone: separated from Elohim. Alone, surrounded by crowds of people.

I can identify - and if He could overcome loneliness; so can I!

Yes, I have my friends in my life that fill my life with life – and I am thankful and grateful – but, at the end of the day, I come home to an empty house.

It’s hard not to get depressed; the only thing keeping me from depression is knowing that my Faith overcomes depression: I have sorrowing moments, certainly, but those emotions do not consume me. The Ruach Ha’Kodesh helps me bear the unbearable. Thank You, Yeshua!

I may be sorrowing.

I may be without familial love and support.

But I always have Elohei.

I have my friends.

And my house is on order.

Bob, from the time he slipped that little simple gold wedding band on my little finger, secured my future as best he could: by the time he graduated to Heaven, dubbya and obama had changed marital laws – we did not know that as 2018 was waning, so ALL our joint accounts were legally erased after Bob passed from this life to his eternal life: the new Laws did not honor Bob’s honoring me with the safeguards he had lovingly set in place – and left this world believing would be honored. All of 2019, I had to scramble, fight for, and insist on those contracts/joint account/and other legalities be honored: some were retained, some were not. The new legalities seriously undermined my securities and constantly kept me off-balance. But at least I had a secure roof over my head, and a reliable new 2 -year old car; and I did not have to renter the work force to make ends meet. I’ve spoken with other widows – online globally and off-line locally – who were not left with even those basic securities. They have had no choice but to go back to work at a time when others are retiring, and most have lost their homes when they were still in the depths of their grief.

Yes, I still get nailed with ‘drop of the hat’ sorrow.

Yes, I am grappling with being alone-alone at the end of the day.

Yes, I am tired of the yo-yoing present, and the uncertainty of my future.

But, all in all, I’m really doing okay ...

... all things considered.

And I am expecting an upswing to this 2^nd year slump.