I am getting tired of saying goodbye to the people that mean the most to me. I never wanted to lose my people. It seems in the grand scheme of things that much of life’s journey are the hellos and the goodbyes. We form our bonds, develop our strong attachments and choose “our tribe” so to speak, and then little by little, one by one, or all at once those closest to us depart, never to return. For me, it has felt like from birth to age 36 must have been designed for the forming of bonds and after 36 seems to be meant for the unexpected separations from them. The severing of physical closeness and the ending of some of my most comforting relationships I have experienced in my life. Is this what life is, a journey of people added and then people subtracted and holes left in your heart? When I reach life’s finish line, I don’t know how much of me will be left. Pieces of me keep fading away and sometimes it feels like life is a lonely road.
It reminds me what little I control over life and how much I despise death. It reminds me that in grief, time is experienced differently, for example, five people whom were a consistent part of our lives have died over a span of three and a half years. In grief, these losses feel so close together. To an outsider, three years since the death of a spouse seems like a long time, but to that grieving widow, the sorrow still can feel so fresh as if it were yesterday. And a new loss seems to stir the pot of trauma from a previous loss or losses. I am grateful to know that thanks to God and the love and sacrifice of Jesus, death isn’t the end. Death is the pain of loss. Death is the awful reality of an ended relationship on earth, and death is the worst feeling I have ever experienced, but death doesn’t have to be the end. Someday there will be a sweet reunion, and everyday I survive another day of living with loss, is another day closer to embracing my husband again.
As you can probably tell from that rather somber introduction, I have lost another of the loved ones that I considered to be in my inner circle of those closest and most trusted in my life. This loved one actually happened to be my husband’s Aunt, but her love for my husband and our children and for me was that of a mother and a grandmother. She was a precious woman with a huge heart of love and no children or grandchildren of her own to lavish it upon. She was there for me when my husband died in sweet and supportive ways that I will never forget. She cared with huge empathy and a heart that never stopped resting on her sleeve. She gave of her time, talent, and resources with abundance and she knew how to make others feel special and wanted.
I will miss the freedom to have our talks and spend time together as a family. She and her husband and my husband and I were quite a comical quartet, having adventures and lots of laughs together. I grieve the loss of another ally in my corner who told me I was doing a wonderful job as a solo Mom and believed in me. Another person who saw me as special, valued, and unconditionally loved. And in my moments of pity party and complete self-focused reflection, I can’t help but whine to God….. Why do I have to keep losing those closest to me? But then I think of how sweet the reunion must have been when she embraced my husband in heaven and was reunited with her greatly missed parents and with my handsome hubby, her nephew that she really loved like a son. I hope she tells him all about how much I miss him and how nicely his sons are growing up. I hope she gives him a hug from the three of us.
In Hope & Prayers,
From This Widow Mama