In a deep time with the Lord this week I took opportunity to talk things through with Him - I told Him that although I do trust that He has my future in His hand - and although I do believe (by faith) that it will be a good future - that I would still, at this time, choose to have Steve back with me now. Straight away I felt a check in my spirit as if what I was saying did not line up with God's heart - it was an honest interaction - but I knew that, in His time, He would give me His perspective.
...and he did - last night - through a dream.
In the dream
Steve came back from the dead. We were absolutely ecstatic at seeing each other again and could not find words to express to each other what we felt - I was full of questions but, as we settled down, it soon became apparent that there was a gulf between us. Not a gulf created by anything that either of us had done or said to each other - just a gulf which emphasised a difference between us which had come about since his death. Somehow I knew that Steve had travelled many eons into a world of which I was not a part and had no comprehension - and he wasn't the same person that I knew before he died. More suprisingly - on the other hand, neither was I the same - and I could see that, even at this early stage, my first independent steps into my God ordained future had set us apart - and my world, like it or not, was not a world where Steve was included.
Another incident during the week highlighted another feature of my reluctant 'pilgrimage'.... I was reading Steve's log which he kept to keep track of his treatment/side effects, how he was feeling, how he had slept and general comments on day to day stuff - and it was as if he was with me again - he became so real. I could see him in my minds eye so clearly, his gestures, his quips... just the very presence of him filled my spirit. It was so beautiful and I missed him so strongly - it took me into a level of grief akin to week 1. Having said that, I just hadn't realised, until that point, that my general awareness of him had been lessening - by default I am being distanced from him even though it is neither by design nor choice.
To know this helps neither the pain nor the suffering experienced in this transitional period - but I increasingly am aware that in order to move forward it is absolutely necessary to fully accept there is no going back. I am not there yet - but I am thinking that, when journeying along with the Lord, that the outcome is inevitable.
As weeks go, I have had my 'up days' and my 'down days'. The down days have been laden with grief, pain and tears - the up days have held times of joy and I have even felt a stirring of vision and creativity - but accompanied at all times by a dull ache in my solar plexus. Oh Steve.... Oh Lord?
Monday, 27 June 2011
Saturday, 11 June 2011
the goodbyes do not end with the funeral......
I would never have anticipated how grief is working through me - a conclusion I have come to with the discovery that even after the 'final goodbye' to my dear husband, I am still saying goodbye to him each and every day - sometimes many times a day.
Today has been full of anguish as I have finally bit the bullet and started to empty and clean our caravan in preparation for its sale. Steve was in my every breath inside that caravan - and as I emptied the cupboards it seemed that every item brought into sharp focus our last summer together - the wee caravan had been our home on our travels and we had spent as much time in it as we had our house between May and September 2010. Even the sand on the floor spoke of our long, leisurely walks along the beach and the final fun filled hours he spent with both me and our grandaughter on our first and, sadly, last Mamma/Grandpa/Bella caravan holiday together. The truth is that his illness became evident just 8 weeks after our final caravan jaunt - when the time bomb that had been silently ticking away in his chest made itself known. It has been a hard day - and I am emotionally drained. While emptying that caravan I have been saying goodbye to all the plans we had made for our retirement and saying goodbye to Steve all over again in a very personal and profound way. So the tears have flowed and the pain has taken my breath away at times.
I suppose it will be many, many months - even years - if ever... before I say my final goodbye to Steve - but hey!, I look forward to the day that I say 'hello' to him again when he comes with Jesus to fetch me home.
Today has been full of anguish as I have finally bit the bullet and started to empty and clean our caravan in preparation for its sale. Steve was in my every breath inside that caravan - and as I emptied the cupboards it seemed that every item brought into sharp focus our last summer together - the wee caravan had been our home on our travels and we had spent as much time in it as we had our house between May and September 2010. Even the sand on the floor spoke of our long, leisurely walks along the beach and the final fun filled hours he spent with both me and our grandaughter on our first and, sadly, last Mamma/Grandpa/Bella caravan holiday together. The truth is that his illness became evident just 8 weeks after our final caravan jaunt - when the time bomb that had been silently ticking away in his chest made itself known. It has been a hard day - and I am emotionally drained. While emptying that caravan I have been saying goodbye to all the plans we had made for our retirement and saying goodbye to Steve all over again in a very personal and profound way. So the tears have flowed and the pain has taken my breath away at times.
Monday, 30 May 2011
Just a quickie.....
My 5 year old grandaughter said today...
Mama - on happy days my heart is sad inside me.....
bless her
she was telling me how she felt about her Grandpa dying.
Mama - on happy days my heart is sad inside me.....
bless her
she was telling me how she felt about her Grandpa dying.
Pushing out
So, here I am - funeral over, shock receding, concerned family and friends now easing back into their own lives - with the hours stretching before me - endless solitary hours. It is Spring Bank Holiday here in the UK and families are doing their thing - whether it is relaxing at home or busy with hobbies and activities. I have just taken the dog for a walk and driveways are full of cars as families come together for rest and relaxation - all of this is good but oh how it accentuates my solitary status. My own grown and flown children are busy with their own lives, and so they should be - and I must now forge a new path - but there is an overwhelming sense of pointlessness that I must first overcome. I have always loved my hobbies - reading, painting, ceramics - and, when Steve was alive - it was always great to have some 'me' time for these solitary pursuits, in fact there never seemed to be enough 'me' time as we were always so active as a 'couple'. No more. More than enough time but no motivation.
Earlier today that same pointless apathy threatened to overwhelm me - but rather than give way to it I picked up my bible and started to read - I was soon transported into a different realm and was really rewarded for my efforts. Having had this experience, I know on the inside of me that I can turn my mind away from my grief to other things and that I will feel better - but it takes a real effort - and sometimes the effort is too great - and I slip into that awful pit of despair. It is so self defeating - but it seems to be a betrayal of Steve to feel anything other than anguish and loss. None of it makes sense but I am beginning to see that any progress is going 'character building' to say the least and that most of the progress will be bourne out of my efforts to avoid pain.
Whilst walking the dog I felt very, very lonely for Steve (no-one else could have relieved the ache) - but I started to reflect back - you know, I do remember times of loneliness even in the midst of a loving, happy and fulfilling marriage - so the feeling isn't new - and I mustn't attribute these feelings solely to my being without Steve.
Just thoughts...
Earlier today that same pointless apathy threatened to overwhelm me - but rather than give way to it I picked up my bible and started to read - I was soon transported into a different realm and was really rewarded for my efforts. Having had this experience, I know on the inside of me that I can turn my mind away from my grief to other things and that I will feel better - but it takes a real effort - and sometimes the effort is too great - and I slip into that awful pit of despair. It is so self defeating - but it seems to be a betrayal of Steve to feel anything other than anguish and loss. None of it makes sense but I am beginning to see that any progress is going 'character building' to say the least and that most of the progress will be bourne out of my efforts to avoid pain.
Whilst walking the dog I felt very, very lonely for Steve (no-one else could have relieved the ache) - but I started to reflect back - you know, I do remember times of loneliness even in the midst of a loving, happy and fulfilling marriage - so the feeling isn't new - and I mustn't attribute these feelings solely to my being without Steve.
Just thoughts...
Friday, 20 May 2011
He loved me
Today I have worked myself weary - oh how I ache - only myself to blame! I made a frenzied attack on the back lawn with a reluctant lawn mower and gritted my teeth and waded into the mountain of paperwork which needs to be sorted out. On rising this morning I knew that I had to lift myself up and over my emotions and start to put one foot in front of the other. The overriding feeling these last few weeks since Steve died is one of being overwhelmed. Some days I can barely co-ordinate my thoughts let alone apply myself to the jobs which are mounting steadily. At a time when I am least able to cope it seems that there is the most work to do - it is absolutely merciless. The telephone calls are the most agonising - I phoned the Automobile Association and the Caravan Club to amend/cancel membership - "Hello, my name is JB and I am ringing to inform you that my husband died on 26th April....." NO, NO, NO, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..... heartache, anguish, reality check - no it can't be real - Lord, wake me up - surely it is just a nightmare and things are going to return to how they were...
The unimaginable ache in my heart and the sense of loneliness is absolutely awful - so I start to think about Steve and bring him into heart focus and the bleakness which comes from looking too far into the future starts to subside. The thought that came to me was just how much Steve loved me - and he did - he told me just days before he died that no-one could have loved me more than he did - and it was true - and I shall miss that immensely. Warts and all he thought that I was the bees' knees - and I thought that he was too. He would have defended me to the hilt and was so faithful. My anguish as I write is, that for the rest of my earthly life, no-one else will have that same love for me - that wonderful love borne of years together, shared experiences, mountains and valleys. Oh dear....
Don't get me wrong my dear sisters - I know how much God loves me and when I am before Him he is the greatest of comforters and I am sure that He will be the best of husbands - our relationship is growing all the time - but you know what |I mean - it is those earthly arms, at this time, that I long for and nothing else quite hits the spot.
The unimaginable ache in my heart and the sense of loneliness is absolutely awful - so I start to think about Steve and bring him into heart focus and the bleakness which comes from looking too far into the future starts to subside. The thought that came to me was just how much Steve loved me - and he did - he told me just days before he died that no-one could have loved me more than he did - and it was true - and I shall miss that immensely. Warts and all he thought that I was the bees' knees - and I thought that he was too. He would have defended me to the hilt and was so faithful. My anguish as I write is, that for the rest of my earthly life, no-one else will have that same love for me - that wonderful love borne of years together, shared experiences, mountains and valleys. Oh dear....
Don't get me wrong my dear sisters - I know how much God loves me and when I am before Him he is the greatest of comforters and I am sure that He will be the best of husbands - our relationship is growing all the time - but you know what |I mean - it is those earthly arms, at this time, that I long for and nothing else quite hits the spot.
Wednesday, 11 May 2011
My Art......
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| Acrylic Painting - He carried me copyright Jacquie Boyles |
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| Acrylic Painting - ...For Me copyright Jacquie Boyles |
A Diary .....because it helps
two weeks and one day
I am hurting in a way that I have never experienced before - a constant dull ache which drains away all joy and purpose - oh Steve - where are you my precious, precious man - I just can't believe that you are gone and that I will never see you again......I need to touch you, smell you, hold you - and then the ache rises in my chest giving way to absolute agony and distress.......this is grief in its fullness - raw grief.
Forgive me my friends and followers - but I so want this to be an exact representation of how things are in the grieving period following the death of my husband - I search each day to find others in my own predicament - just so that I can get a measure of how things are for them too - will I ever function normally again - even experience fullness of joy. I just hope that in the months and years to come that my experiences may help some other dear woman who's life has been suddenly and forever changed by the death of her husband.
I am disciplining myself to do those things that need doing regardless of how I feel - I don't want to slip into depression - I have had experience of that in the past and it isn't a place that I wish to return - so, housework done, lawn cut and dinner prepared - I take refuge in my sanctuary, put on Steve's jumper and take out the DVD of his life that I prepared for his funeral/celebration and sit, and watch, and cry. I just needed to see him again and remind myself of his smile. I thought that this may make matters worse - but instead, it has really helped - it has centered me again and the cry has relieved the ache which had permeated my bones. One consequence - fatigue - oh how tired and drained I feel at times.
On the spiritual side of things - I am a Christian and I love the Lord with all my heart and have, had a very close walk with Him since my full acceptance of Him. Through prayer and life experiences, our relationship has developed over the last 20 years and I have come to know some of His ways - but this Lord? I have been tormented by the question "Lord, why did you not heal my husband?" Many prayed, some fasted, we stood in faith as much as we could have with a tidal wave of distress and fear crashing over us and quicksand under our feet. From the day that Steve was diagnosed it was just 4 months until his death, we did not get chance to catch breath.So why did you not heal Him? ..(further exploration on this topic later...your input will be appreciated at that time).
In the aftermath, amidst the devastation I have been looking to the Lord for answers to some very deep and troubling questions. With great relief the Lord has spoken - not to answer my questions - but with words that are fundamental - He said "Jacquie, our relationship is based upon trust - without it you cannot stand upon the Rock". I can question Him no more at this time - for what He said is truth - and I bow my knee. I acknowledge Him who sees all things from beginning to the end and my peace is restored.
I am looking to rekindle my prayer life - but what do I pray about? My whole time these last months has been about praying for Steve - I have now lost my reason and my cause. Help Lord! Bring some purpose back into my life.......
I am hurting in a way that I have never experienced before - a constant dull ache which drains away all joy and purpose - oh Steve - where are you my precious, precious man - I just can't believe that you are gone and that I will never see you again......I need to touch you, smell you, hold you - and then the ache rises in my chest giving way to absolute agony and distress.......this is grief in its fullness - raw grief.
Forgive me my friends and followers - but I so want this to be an exact representation of how things are in the grieving period following the death of my husband - I search each day to find others in my own predicament - just so that I can get a measure of how things are for them too - will I ever function normally again - even experience fullness of joy. I just hope that in the months and years to come that my experiences may help some other dear woman who's life has been suddenly and forever changed by the death of her husband.
I am disciplining myself to do those things that need doing regardless of how I feel - I don't want to slip into depression - I have had experience of that in the past and it isn't a place that I wish to return - so, housework done, lawn cut and dinner prepared - I take refuge in my sanctuary, put on Steve's jumper and take out the DVD of his life that I prepared for his funeral/celebration and sit, and watch, and cry. I just needed to see him again and remind myself of his smile. I thought that this may make matters worse - but instead, it has really helped - it has centered me again and the cry has relieved the ache which had permeated my bones. One consequence - fatigue - oh how tired and drained I feel at times.
On the spiritual side of things - I am a Christian and I love the Lord with all my heart and have, had a very close walk with Him since my full acceptance of Him. Through prayer and life experiences, our relationship has developed over the last 20 years and I have come to know some of His ways - but this Lord? I have been tormented by the question "Lord, why did you not heal my husband?" Many prayed, some fasted, we stood in faith as much as we could have with a tidal wave of distress and fear crashing over us and quicksand under our feet. From the day that Steve was diagnosed it was just 4 months until his death, we did not get chance to catch breath.So why did you not heal Him? ..(further exploration on this topic later...your input will be appreciated at that time).
In the aftermath, amidst the devastation I have been looking to the Lord for answers to some very deep and troubling questions. With great relief the Lord has spoken - not to answer my questions - but with words that are fundamental - He said "Jacquie, our relationship is based upon trust - without it you cannot stand upon the Rock". I can question Him no more at this time - for what He said is truth - and I bow my knee. I acknowledge Him who sees all things from beginning to the end and my peace is restored.
I am looking to rekindle my prayer life - but what do I pray about? My whole time these last months has been about praying for Steve - I have now lost my reason and my cause. Help Lord! Bring some purpose back into my life.......
Tuesday, 10 May 2011
...the tsunami
However, in November Steve started to feel unwell and after many visits to the GP and numerous scans and a liver biopsy in January 2011 he was finally diagnosed with 'non curable' lung cancer which had spread into his bones and liver.
We were absolutely devastated when we were told - our kids (34 and 36 years - well, they are still your kids!) were with us on the journey right from that very time - and it felt as if someone had twisted my gut and pulled my heart out of its position. Our world had collapsed and we could not believe nor come to terms with what we had been told. Surely, it was just a nightmare - surely we would wake up - surely there was some medication, or some treatment somewhere that would put things right.
Standing from my 'now' position I am amazed how unbelief can block out and deny the facts. We were desolate - yet still were able to sit as a family and discuss the news that had been given to us.
Not long afterwards the Japanese tsunami occurred - a tragedy of great magnitude - but I could not help but compare it with what seemed to be our own tsunami - one which had swept over and devastated our own lives.
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