Everyone tells me this grief thing will get easier. I’ve
heard it from a lot of people. But the words sometimes taunt me.
They taunt me today when telling the woman at the animal
clinic I need a copy of the dog’s rabies paperwork because my husband died and
I can’t find it. As I choke back sobs and apologize for not being able to
finish my sentence, she was understanding. But as I hung up the phone they came
in waves—wracking sobs that would not be held back.
Those words taunted me last week when I had to tell another
stranger I had no idea where something was because my husband put it who-knows-where. And again, a relatively nice day became one where I was reminded once more
that he is gone. I’ve got to figure this out.
It will get easier to
deal with the loss. At night when getting four kids into bed is taking the
last of my energy for the day, these words taunt me. In the morning when the
alarm clock goes off and I’m reminded I cannot hit snooze ‘cause there is no
one to kick out of bed to take care of things while I get five more minutes of
sleep, these words seem hollow.
It gets easier.
They taunt me taking the kids out to eat and having to say, “Party of five”
instead of six. The words catch in my throat and bring sorrow once more. Simply
asking for a table casts a shadow of sadness over the event of going out.
I know they are true. It
will get easier. But waiting for that to happen is a daily struggle.
Of course there are good days. There are days like yesterday when I watched Dr. Who with three of my four kids, continuing to introduce them to excellent science fiction TV. And later, I made a really good dinner and we all five played a new card game that was a Christmas present. We accomplished some chores and baths were cared for. All things considered, yesterday was a good day.
Of course there are good days. There are days like yesterday when I watched Dr. Who with three of my four kids, continuing to introduce them to excellent science fiction TV. And later, I made a really good dinner and we all five played a new card game that was a Christmas present. We accomplished some chores and baths were cared for. All things considered, yesterday was a good day.
But his absence is still obvious. The lack of him still
lingers. He left a hole in our lives and sometimes I struggle with not knowing
if I’m allowing my kids to talk about that enough. Do I bring it up when they
may be having a good day and suddenly I take that from them? Or does waiting
for them to bring it up make them think they shouldn’t ruin mine?
It will get easier.
I have a love-hate relationship with these words. They are a promise of good
days ahead…when they aren’t taunting me that I’m not there yet. And then this
morning I went to Bible study with a small group of ladies I’m only beginning
to know. Melanie shared something so sweet it brought tears to my eyes.
She shared of attending a funeral for another woman who lost
a husband young, leaving her to care for four kids. She spoke of this newly
widowed woman standing up and assuring her friends that this was not the burden
God had entrusted to them. She was glad for their support but to remember that
God would grant her the grace to walk this path.
I cried as I realized the words “it gets easier” may taunt me but that does not change that God
walks with me. It does not change that He is giving me the grace to get up each
morning and to hold these kids and take care of our household. He is trusting
me with an incredibly hard journey because He does not leave me to it alone and
because, like Job, He knew my faith would not be shaken.
It will get easier. I know this. And when the words taunt me
like a cruel joke, I will turn to the truth from God’s word and stand strong. Ephesians
6:13 says “…so that when the day of evil comes you may be able to stand your
ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.” By God’s grace it will
get easier to stand.