It's almost midnight. It's been a long hard day and it's been some time since I last sat down and took to writing. I cannot let the day pass though without thoughts flowing out onto paper. I have no energy for grammatics tonight, I don't care about spelling. I have no thoughts for comma's or punctuation of any kind. Judge me if you like, I don't care. Tonight I just want to speak from a place deep within. Something has to come out of me besides tears today.
This man will always be my life. And he will always consume the whole of my heart, my very heavy broken heart. It has been a year filled with pain.... more intense than I have ever known. How do I learn to live with it and not let it consume me? This will be my life long battle. I am sure the only reason I'm here today to write any words at all are because of the prayers and the kindness of so many. Each prayer and each thoughtful act has literally kept me alive. No exaggerations! Strands of goodness woven together, a safety net, saving me from one minute to the next. There has not been one day pass since his life was brutally taken from me that I have not felt this massive net of kind acts and thoughtful deeds stretch beneath me to catch me as I fall farther and farther from anything I have ever known. My gratitude is immeasurable. The list of people I need to thank is long and I will never forget such a life line extended daily to me and my family. Every prayer and every good deed has been noticed and so appreciated.
I have to say today though, I think I will forever live in denial. Every day I struggle to wrap my head around it all. They say denial is natures way of letting in only what you can handle. I struggle daily without him. Shock seems to have claimed me for a friend and it resonates continually inside my disbelief.
People are quick to give advice, but loss is very personal and comparisons never apply. Who can know my thoughts or what I feel, but I. And wherever I go, there I am, every broken part of me. I can't get away from the worst of me. Surely the best of me is gone.
I feel him watching me, he is aware of my every need. I hear his footsteps down the hall, I feel his spirit come in and out. His visitations are real. And I am amazed at how Heaven often stands right beside me. He is a man who has always had favor with the Lord. I knew it the day I met him. And because of his worthiness, I am sure he is free to be with me, with all of us, our watchman on the tower. I am so grateful for all the times he has rescued me. I am learning first hand what angels can do.
Even still though, I don't know where I'm going. I don't know how to get there. I feel so lost. I'm tired of living in a space where I can't grab hold of him. I visit his grave daily. I love both his spirit and body and for that reason I take immaculate care of his grave. Tending to it brings me peace. Still I long to hear his voice, feel his massive core next to me. I can't sleep. My crying wakes me. I miss our trivial conversations, the way he laughed, the way he kindly tolerated my vocal musings. It never mattered how long I babbled on. He was always first and foremost a kind man. I miss nagging him and the way he loved me regardless. He was always so good to me.
I do crazy things now. I still pay for his cell phone so I can call him. I can't turn if off or cancel the service, I can't, I just can't cancel any part of him. So when I can no longer stand the long hours and days without his voice, I call his phone. I listen intently to the familiarity of his warm and friendly voice and try to feel it's a normal day and he's busy with a patient. "He'll call me back," I think, and I'll hear that Neil Diamond tune on my phone, "Money talks, but it don't sing and dance and it don't walk and as long as I can have you here with me, I'd much rather be forever in blue jeans!" It was one of our songs. And as I sit there dialing his number, pretending there'll be a call back, I try to remember his, "Hello?" I long for old conversations and I could write a rock star tutorial on what it means to be sad.
His socks are still in his Sunday shoes, right where he abandoned them. His scrub tops still sit on the laundry shelf, waiting to be clean. I can't move his bar of soap or shift one single item that gives proof of his existence. I have to see him there, his toothbrush next to mine, his coat next to mine, his everything next to mine. And every day I look at his picture and the sign that sits next to it, a sign that sat in his office for 30 years, it says "Smile," and I try, but nothing has felt harder in my life. How can I smile without the man who made the whole of my existence, everything I ever wanted or cared about, he was the leader of it all. It feels nearly impossible.
Regardless though I am forced to carry on, fighting every inch of the path I've been sentenced to, wondering if I'll ever come to my senses, me kicking against the pricks. I know by refusing God's authority I am only punishing myself. Me driving the goad in deeper and deeper as I rebel against whatever God was thinking. What was He thinking? I'm just so angry. I vehemently hate being alone and I don't want togetherness with anyone but the man who made togetherness fit perfectly. I want my old life back, the one where days were ordinary and filled with happy thoughts and the business of living. I don't want to grow old alone. I want to age and slow down with the man I love. What am I to do? I had plans, I had dreams, I had hopes, high hopes.
It rained so hard today. His sorrow fell from the sky to meet ours. I have a staggering headache, my chest beats with no apparent rhythm, and like always everything inside me hurts. I feel old, worn out, and used up.
Someday, I'm going home. I want to go home. I long to feel the peace that is there. I'm weary and exhausted. I always told Glade, "I don't care what test or trial the Lord gives me..... just so I never have to be alone, yup, not one day without you honey." Now look, and here I am.
I will never understand it. I will never agree to it. I refuse! I am first and foremost stubborn! And God is going to hear about this when I get home! And so I begin what feels like a vast wait. And I pray he'll meet me in my dreams until we are side by side again. I was pulling up videos on my computer. Looking for him in the footage. I found a short clip of Kelson's wedding. All the people in the video were dancing, my kids, my grandkids, all our friends, everyone moving to the beat of happiness. I was searching frantically for Glade. "Where is he?" I was racked with emotion and I had consigned myself that somehow in my stupidity I had not filmed him. I was so mad at myself! Why hadn't I filmed him? Then out of nowhere, right at the end of the clip when I least expected it, he magically appeared, standing there, his hands in his pockets looking so bold! Oh the JOY, the complete JOY that violently took me hostage! The second my eyes caught sight of him my heart nearly jumped from my chest. I froze the frame. I cried so hard. I had wondered just exactly what it would feel like to see him again. What heaven will look like when light opens my eyes and he is standing there before me. And now I know! And I will never forget! I know exactly how I will feel. Surely a tender mercy for me, a glimpse of our eternity! Absolutely nothing will feel better than that moment. Nothing on earth, nothing in heaven, absolutely nothing will ever compare to what I will feel spring through me in that split second when I see his smile, his big broad wonderful smile. I know he'll be standing there just like he was in that clip. In the clip he was grinning. He was watching his family and his JOY was beaming, spilling out from every part of him. He was always like that with us. We were his happy!
Tomorrow is his birthday. Today we remembered him, we sat with our sorrow and remembered. Tomorrow however will be different, tomorrow we will celebrate his life. And oh what a celebration it will be. There will never be a day when he won't be our hero, our happy, our joy, our everything. And while I long to be with him and that longing will never end. I am so grateful that somehow in my simple small life, I won the lottery. It was the day I said, "Yes" across the alter. Death can rob me of many things. It cannot however take from me the best, for the best is yet to come. I thought I had the best. Now I realize it's coming. And I will be waiting and I will be ready. And when I take hold of his hand on that bright day. I am never ever letting go again!
I love you Glade. I love you today and always, completely and forever. Stay with me and guide me home.
