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.
Yes,we do say Good-bye so very often.I talked with a friend today,who said good-bye to her husband 9 years ago.She tells me that the lows we experience will become less low as time goes on.Right now,I can only believe she is telling the truth.God sees each tear that falls and I believe He turns them into prayers,which I cannot even pray.May you find comfort in knowing that our God cares,and so do I.
ReplyDeleteLove and hugs,Ruth
"but hey!, I look forward to the day that I say 'hello' to him again when he comes with Jesus to fetch me home."
ReplyDeleteLove it ... I can't wait either. Definitely has taken some of the sting of death out for me ... because I know then I'll get to see him again.
P.S. You write very well.
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