Rest in Peace

My dear sweet husband,
My heart still aches.  I still miss you.  I still love you.  I still cry for you.  May you watch over us and be proud of the legacy you left behind.

Movie Quote Monday

"Someone has to die 

in order that the rest of us should value life more. 

It's contrast."

--Virginia Woolf,

The Hours, written by David Hare, Directed by Stephen Daldry and Produced by Robert Fox and Scott Rudin, 2002. 

The Touch of the Master's Hand

Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
thought it scarcely worth his while to waste much time on the old violin,
but held it up with a smile; "What am I bidden, good folks," he cried,
"Who'll start the bidding for me?" "A dollar, a dollar"; then two!" "Only
two? Two dollars, and who'll make it three? Three dollars, once; three
dollars twice; going for three.." But no, from the room, far back, a
gray-haired man came forward and picked up the bow; Then, wiping the dust
from the old violin, and tightening the loose strings, he played a melody
pure and sweet as caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer, with a voice that was quiet and low,
said; "What am I bid for the old violin?" And he held it up with the bow.
A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two? Two thousand! And who'll make
it three? Three thousand, once, three thousand, twice, and going and
gone," said he. The people cheered, but some of them cried, "We do not
quite understand what changed its worth." Swift came the reply: "The touch
of a master's hand."

And many a man with life out of tune, and battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd, much like the old violin, A
"mess of pottage," a glass of wine; a game - and he travels on. "He is
going" once, and "going twice, He's going and almost gone." But the Master
comes, and the foolish crowd never can quite understand the worth of a soul
and the change that's wrought by the touch of the Master's hand.

---Myra 'Brooks' Welch

I must blog, I must blog, I must blog

Life since July has been up and down and down and up!
Four funerals, a new baby, a serious illness, six birthdays, an anniversary, a flooded basement, LDS General Conference, three trips to Wyoming, a trip to St. George and a genealogy conference.  I am behind on almost everything; especially blogging!

My father-in-law passed in August and it has been so difficult watching my mother-in-law struggle down the path of widowhood.  Then on the 23rd of October, my brother-in-law suddenly and unexpectedly passed.  Now, my sister-in-law must also wander down the widowhood path.  Too many funerals; too many widows; and too many memories for me along with Joe's birthday, my anniversary, and next week his death anniversary.

The pain and grief from losing Joe is finally bearable; and by that I mean I have learned how to live with it.  I know how to function and meander through life.  However, watching my mother-in-law and sister-in-law join me down this road has intensified my grief pain as I have seen their faces of shock and grief and heard their tears of sorrow.

I am thankful for the atonement that helps and assists me with this awful pain of grief.  I am thankful for the Comforter, who truly does comfort in those dark, painful and lonely hours day after day and night after night.  I am thankful for family who cannot take away the pain, but can walk beside me through it.  I am grateful for sweet friends who love and care (especially for the sweet person, who every anniversary secretly leaves roses on my doorstep).  I am grateful for my grandchildren who remind me to laugh and keep loving and who hug me like I am their world.   But most of all I am thankful for a man who taught me love and marriage are beautiful!

Life is hard.
Death is hard.
Watching another's pain is hard.

And, on Wednesday it will be 10 years!
Ten years is too long to be away from the one you forever love!
I still love him every single day and every single day I miss him.

Birthday wishes. . .

Sending birthday wishes to heaven today.
Death may have taken you to another place,
but you will forever be in my heart.

I Am Not a Dog Person--My Buddies

I am not a dog person; never have, never will be. 

However, soon after Joe’s death I found myself not wanting to go home.  After a trip I would run errands, or dilly dally around.  After analyzing why I didn’t want to go home I realized it was because the loneliness was awful.  So, I got a hypo allergic dog.  He needed a companion so, I got another dog.  

I have noticed that when the dogs are not here, I am really lonely.  It’s not like I always play with them, or have them sitting on my lap—remember I don’t like dogs—but there is a real difference when they are not here.  There is something to be said for having another living presence in your living space.  

I also appreciate the alerts they give me if someone is at the door or if there is something going on in the neighborhood.  They are a security factor that allows me to sleep better and feel safer during the day.

I am not a dog person; however these two have given me great companionship!

Fiddlesticks

It hit on Sunday, and it has not been this bad for years.

Yes, years.

Grief is back, the big G-R-I-E-F.
I mean the kind of grief that sneaks upon you, slugs you in the stomach, collapses you and squeezes your heart until it explodes.  The kind of grief that creates primal animal noises from your gut.  The kind of grief that leaves your eyes raw and red.  The kind of grief that smothers you so you cannot breathe.  That kind of grief.

The big one is coming.
It is bringing me much reflection and for the first time,  survivors guilt*! 



*(that is one of the grief stages I haven't dealt with yet!)

Memorial Day Weekend. . .Remembering. . .

Kemmerer Republican 31 May 1918 pg 1:

“Until noon a continual stream of automobiles 

wended toward the local cemeteries, 

where the graves of loved ones were decorated.”

RS Rocket 4 June 1909 page 1:

“There were many besides who took flowers 

to lay upon the graves of loved ones, 

and the day was given over with reverence to the boys in blue 

and the citizens who visited the silent city.”

Somedays

I just miss him very much!

And, some days, this is the only place I want to be--

near where his body rests.

Vulnerable

Yes I am.

After Joe died I decided to go in and see about getting Lasik eye surgery to correct my vision.  I had insurance and I figured it was a good time to get something like that taken care of.

During the consultation, the doctor explained the surgery and then went on to explain the risks of the surgery.

I was suddenly paralyzed with fear--this was an elective surgery and if things went wrong. . .

If I cannot see I lose part of my independence.   When Joe was living, if I lost my sight it was different: he could drive me, help me shop, help me be independent, but as a widow I would need outside help; I would ultimately be dependent upon someone else.  It made me  realize how vulnerable I truly am.

. . .since it was an optional surgery I couldn't chance it!

A couple of weeks ago I hurt my foot.  Well actually I injured it and a week later it began to hurt.  I was faced with that vulnerability once again. . .then the grief comes knocking.  The grief and sadness of losing your other half; the one that is always there for you no matter what, the one that knows you better than yourself, the one that loves you enough to help you do anything and everything. 

The ironic part of this being vulnerable episode, is that a couple of weeks before I injured my foot, I had the flu.  It was the nasty I-wanna-die flu.  My head felt like it would explode.  My ears were plugged and I had to have the tv blaring; even the dogs were looking at me like "man that tv is really loud!"  For two weeks I laid on the couch sleeping, taking cold medicine, watching old movies and blowing my nose! 
I was too sick to cook.
I was too sick to clean.
I was too sick to think.

As a widow, I have learned to keep on hand:  Pepto, ginger ale, crackers, soup, cough syrup, cough drops, cold medicine and extra boxes of tissue---because there is no one to run to the store for you.  When I run out of these items I immediately replace them, because if there is anything I hate, it is going to the store when I don't feel well!

As I lay on the couch, I said to myself, this is the upside to being a widow:  First, I can be sick all alone without anyone bothering me!!!!  And secondly, I won't have to take care of a sick husband!!! 

You wives out there know exactly what I am talking about!!!

Isn't that how life is, my optimism during the flu was replaced a week later with my vulnerability when I injured my foot!

Strength from Pearls

Jackie Kennedy Onassis

(source)

 

 On the morning of Joe's funeral, my head just kept saying, "I can't do this." 

Then, in my mind's eye I could see Jackie Kennedy with her two small children

at her husband's funeral proceedings. 

I remember seeing those many pictures of her bravery as the whole world watched.

I thought to myself:

if she can do it, so can I.

 

(source)

 

I put on my single pearl necklace, and my pearl stud earrings--

my strength for the day to bury my husband.

 

A couple of years later for Christmas I bought myself a strand of pearls:

a necklace,bracelet, and earrings. 

A visual reminder of how strong I really am.

 

 

It is amazing what we can endure when we are called up to endure it.

Thankful for. . .

knowing he loved me.

This morning as I have thought about my many blessings I am reminded of an event that took place at the cemetery.

I was at the cemetery visiting Joe's grave, when I saw a newly-widowed friend.  After a few minutes, I walked over to this friend.  We shared the difficulties of being widowed and the harshness of death, when she suddenly and sadly said to me, "At least you knew that Joe loved you.  I never knew for sure he loved me."

Yes, I knew Joe loved me and I am so thankful that I was able to experience the best and most special love that can exist between two people.  A love that included friendship and respect.  A sacred love that reaches through death and lives eternally.

I am grateful that I worked at our relationship, that I respected our relationship and that I endured to the end; because now I have the sweet memories of a successful true love to savor the rest of my life.

I am very blessed indeed.

Somedays....

I just feel blue like this:

He still brings me flowers!

Last summer when I visited Joe's grave look what I found growing on my side of the headstone!

If you know me and know how much I worked to teach him to bring me flowers, you know this is a big deal!

Nine years today,

and this is all I have to say:

Breathing

Sometimes I have to just focus on breathing.

I cannot think of tomorrow,
I cannot think of tonight.

Just the here
and
now
and my breathing.

The pain is always consuming; there is no escape.
I look okay on the outside, but I am not on the inside.

Breathe.

The pain of seeing your loved one in a coffin, the pain of touching his cold body.

Breathe.

People say, how do you do it--
I don't do "it".
My stupid broken heart won't stop beating.

Breathe.

It's nothing heroic or strong, I just don't have a choice.
Just like the sun on my arm, it can shine and heat, but it doesn't choose who to shine on or who to heat.
It just is.  So, am I.

Quote

Life is much bigger than just a body.  When you are grieving over the loss of a loved one, sense the presence of their soul, which is always with you, instead of the personality that is gone. 

—Oprah Winfrey

Loss

I didn't just lose the man I loved,
I also lost an easier life.

I lost a someone to share my history and memories with.

I lost someone who shared and cared about my dreams, goals, and life.

I lost my best friend.

I lost my love.

I lost my life.  Living will never be the same.  Life will never be the same.  I will never be the same.

In some ways I am better,
In some ways I am stronger,
In some ways I have more peace.

Quote

 Dr Christina Hibbert source here