Forever Incomplete


I have always struggled with the incompletes in life. I was a self proclaimed over achiever who couldn’t settle for anything less than finishing each task. Earning less than an A made me sad. Goals, to do lists, finishing what I started, and fulfilling my commitments were all my norm. The incompletes have always gotten under my skin. My husband used to tease me by starting a song lyric and then cutting off the lyrics half way through really abruptly. He knew it would bug me until I gave in and sang the second part of the musical phrase. It bothers me when I can’t finish a sentence in a conversation because someone or something interrupts my thought process. It even bugs me when I can’t find that last puzzle piece.

Those are just the minor incompletes in life. The little things. But, what am I supposed to do with this gigantic and horrible sense of incomplete that I carry at my core each day. Ever fiber of my inner being wants to revert to the life it knew two years ago before my husband died when things were in their working order and life was fairly smooth. The lingering sense of incomplete just hangs like a weight on my shoulders. It is a total lack of closure. It was an abrupt, unexpected interruption of all I had known, loved, and found my security in. It was the ultimate cancellation of plans. It interrupted my plans for a lifetime of love, and child rearing, and family memories together. The blueprints were drawn for a future of happiness, but only the foundation was built. How can you live in a home with nothing but a foundation? How can I have any happiness for the remaining majority of my life when I only got to share just a few years with him?

These are the types of questions I ask myself. The lingering, nagging sense of an interrupted life seems to have no remedy. My mind says that things should still be as they were when life had order and purpose and hope in it. My heart screams and wails because it cannot continue to give and receive love in the same way it always did, but the relationship was severed. I liken it to a bundle of wires or nerves that have been completely severed and are malfunctioning. It feels like all the loose ends are desperately longing to plug in to the places where they once belonged so they can function smoothly again, but they are never able to find that place and therefore are never satisfied. Live wires are filled with painful sparks and chaos. Much like my life without my beloved husband.

This sense of incomplete really concerns me as I look to an unknown future. For example, I wonder if I am always stuck in this sense of incomplete, then is it even possible to begin a new relationship if God ever sent the right someone? And I wonder how a person changes their perspective. From God’s vantage point I believe He determined that my husband had completed the purposes for which he was created on this earth. That is what the Bible teaches and that is what I must rest on during this season of despair. From my own view point, complete would have been defined as having raised his children together with his wife and having been able to know the joy of grandparenting. Complete would have been loving his wife for many many more years, and having the chance to grow in his career endeavors and work faithfully and successfully at a new job he was so excited to try but never did. He died early in the morning on the first day of new employee orientation. Complete would have been getting to serve God in the church in the ways that were on his heart. Complete would have been reaching at least the typical life expectancy of an adult male. Complete would have been us celebrating at least our silver anniversary milestone of 25 years. Complete would have been a death at a more expected time.

Complete is not unexpectedly passing at almost 34 with two very young children at home. Complete is not becoming a widow right at the beginning of raising a family. Right at the onset of having two children and someday hoping for a third. Right at the point of your first born just about to start school. Everything about this type of sudden loss at a young age screams unnatural, and incomplete. Somedays I fear it will always feel this way. It is like your head knows there should be some closure, but your heart is always yearning for him, searching for him, calling for him and clinging to every memory you have.

Do you ever struggle with the incompletes in your life?

In Hope & Prayers,

From This Widow Mama



Dorothy lost her beloved husband Oct 2021 to a very unexpected bacterial pneumonia that quickly became septic shock. Her other half and best friend was born with a serious congenital heart defect. Because of that, she had always feared the possibility of being a widow, but she thought it more likely to be due to his heart, and more likely when her husband was in his 50s after the children were grown. Instead, he graduated to heaven just one week before turning 34. Dorothy was 36 with young sons ages 5 and 16 months who adored their Daddy. In less than 48 hours, the life Dorothy and her beloved husband so carefully built together shattered. They were blessed to share just over 8 wonderful, joyous and fun years of marriage. While her heart is so thankful to God for having had their journey together, she has struggled since his death with feeling hurt and let down by God. She has felt so devastated that their love story was short and ended so abruptly. Join her as she shares her unfolding journey of grasping to faith in Christ as she journeys through love, loss, single parenthood, honoring her husband's legacy and guiding her sons through their grief and life without Daddy.