July 17^th, 2023

I’m supposed to be writing my book; that’s the window I should have open on my this computer.  I should be writing what God is having me write, and Scott encouraged me to finish…but I’m not.  I’m back here again, in the grief journal…and I don’t want to be.

You already know from my previous post that today was, for some reason, a rough day.  I don’t know why I have had trouble getting through random sentences without my voice breaking, without having to check my resolve before completing a verbal thought process today.  My daughter-in-love said it was because I’m overtired.  I have been back to only sleeping three hours a night for about the last three nights or so.  But I don’t know if that’s it.  

Yes, the stuff came today from Legacy (the organ donation people).  And yes, it speaks, once again, to the finality of everything that has happened.  Part of me says, “I don’t need reminders; he hasn’t been here for over two months.”  While part of me screams, “WHY???  Why isn’t he here now?  This is America!  Where is the judge and jury who says he cannot come back out?”

But it is not a prison cell where he now resides.  I know that with every shred of my being.  

So, it is not on the fact that he is not here that I demur.  It is on the principle of the length of my remaining.  While I do not know (why can’t I know?!?) the amount of time during which I will remain tethered to this plane of existence, my mind reaches to the greatest length imaginable before I will be to join him.  The average age of a woman in North America is 81 but the oldest person alive is 116 years old.  Jeanne Calment was the oldest human documented (in contemporary time, by the people who don’t consider the Bible to be documentation) was 122 years and 164 days old.  They say she is the only person verified to have lived past 120 years.  I don’t expect to be the oldest person alive (my genetics won’t likely stand for that) but even if I live to be average, 81, that is 31 years that I still have to live knowing that I don’t have him here and, right now, it feels like I’ll stil be here figuring out how I’m supposed to manage that by myself.  

There is something special about when God tells you that He has delivered to you exactly what you need. When He says to you, “Hey…I’ve got this soulmate thing for you on lock over here…got it all figured out.  You’re gonna love it…”

Yep…there’s something special about that.  He doesn’t actually warn you at the time of when it will all be over or how much longer you’ll have to figure things out without him, after that. 

Just so you know…that doesn’t make me wish that I hadn’t jumped in with both feet.  Ohhhh, and boy did I jump in!  When Scott showed up in my life, I lit up like a Christmas tree.  I even have a few friends who could still now attest to that statement being pure fact.  No sloshy, mooshy, fake gooey love stuff.  The real  sloshy, mooshy, gooey love stuff. The kind that some people (use to be me, people) don’t even think really exists.  Oh, and there was my mother-in-law who called us “twitterpated.”  She had to remind me, at the time, that the word was from Bambi but she was right; it fit.  I dare say we were twitterpated for as long as we knew one another.  (I have watched Bambi at least three times since then.)

What’s hard is knowing how much God loves you, knowing He wants the absolute best for your life, hearing that He wants you to have fullness of joy and gives you a promise for a hope and a future… and then seeing all of that drift away…or surge away in drastic measure and infinitesimally small timespan, in our case.

***But He did.  God has showed me some pretty good promises already and He has come through on them, every time.  Even in the times when those promises seemed absolutely impossible.  Even when there should have been no natural way for some things to occur.  He still came through for me.  He still fulfilled promises that I didn’t even believe were for me…surely, they had to apply to people who were better…who were worthy.

For today, I am going to choose to say, let it be…. I don’t know the hour He will call me home.  I don’t know what blessings or heartache will occur along the way.  What I do know is that my God loves me with wild abandon.  I know that, despite my doubt, despite my heartache, despite my loss…He is the rock on which I stand.  I can only imagine how hard that is for some to understand…but I am grateful that He has given me eyes to see.