Rebuilding What I No Longer Have

Nathan and I just finished watching the DVD Hook.  A quote from the movie is: "To live would be an awfully big adventure."  I'm not sure I'd describe my life as an adventure but it has certainly taken some unpredictable twists and turns and thrown me around a bit.  The trail marked out by grief is full of ups and downs, shadows, glimpses of sunshine, slippery and rocky.  While I was away with friends during the first part of my vacation, I went shopping with the queen.  I saw a poster in the store that read:

God knows your purpose.  Do you? "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a purpose." Jer. 29:11  I bought the poster because it asks a very good question.  Do I know the purpose God has for my life? It was all very simple to answer when I was sharing my life with Dave and had him by my side, but when he passed away, my whole life changed and I am no longer fully certain of my purpose in life.

I had a lovely time away with my friends and over the Easter weekend we went camping with some of their friends as well.  As they sat around and talked about their lives, and their families, I realised that my friends here in Australia have missed out on knowing Dave and me.  They know that I was married to Dave and they know that we shared our lives together, but they didn't have any mutual adventures and memories to share with us.  When they see me, it is almost as if that part of me didn't happen and that I am still the same person I was before June 12th, 2010.  I am still doing the same 'old' thing that I was before I was married to Dave and living in the States.  They didn't see who I was with Dave and who we were together.  That hurts.

I received an email from a good friend who lives in Spokane and who knows Dave and me.  She wrote: "Thinking about you and praying that you experience His hope, joy, and love in very real and tangible ways this Easter and everyday.

Even though the holidays are bittersweet without Dave's physical presence, I challenge you to take some time to just bask in God's unfathomable love for you - all that Easter means."

Over my time away, I pondered, (sometimes out loud to the queen) about where I'm supposed to be headed now.  Starting all over again, building things up from scratch is hard, sometimes more difficult than I can express.  Sometimes it's the little things.  Like finding out that all my music books are gone even though I know I had some with me in Reardan.  Nathan gave me back my guitar but I have no music to use and I am not proficient enough in my playing, to play without music.  I have my sewing machine back but I have no material, no cottons, elastics and pins.  I have bookshelves and my friend gave me back 50 of my books but all the kids' books and other books I have bought over the years are gone.  I have a DVD player and I'm slowly rebuilding my DVD library.  I have only 3 games to go with my Wii...  These are things that are  of varying degrees of importance to me and will take time and money to build up again.

I no longer have Dave.  I wanted to share the rest of my life with him and began investing in our time together.  Other couples can go camping together, share their concerns for their children and make plans for their future but I do not have that.  And I cried because it doesn't seem fair to have to start all over again.  I know that God's love is far deeper and stronger than the ocean waves I saw and the strong tall trees I walked among.  I know that this life is only temporary and we are to move forward and lay up treasures for ourselves in Heaven but I am on my own and alone.

A friend recently asked me how I was doing and I replied, "Up and down, round and round, hopeful, sad and happy. I miss Dave way more than I can express and wish he was here with every breath that I take. At the same time, I take a day at a time, moving forward a step at a time. I know I have many blessings to be thankful for, many friendships that remind me I am loved but Dave is a part of me that is always missing." 

Today I read on Facebook, "When someone  you love dies, you never quite get over it.  You just slowly learn how to go on without them But always keeping them tucked safely in your heart."  Those words are very true.  Sometimes it seems too slowly and I long to be normal again but every morning when I wake up without Dave, I am wearing the cloak of grief and it's there when I go to sleep without Dave, in the evening.