I think I finally solved the mystery of my recent emotional swings. I’ve been exceedingly emotional for several weeks. Crying bucketfuls of tears daily. The loss of my precious Joel seems to have slammed me really hard all of a sudden. Why now? It’s been nearly 6 months, and I thought my emotions would be a little more under control by now. After all, I’ve been through this widow journey before. And yet…I feel his loss deeper and deeper each day. Even typing this is causing my throat to tighten, knowing the tears are soon to follow. I know to expect the waves to overtake me some days, but this has been unending for weeks! However, I think I jut solved the mystery.
The shock of Joel’s death is finally over.
In a nutshell, I’ve been living in a state of disbelief since February 12, 2017. While I know my husband is gone, the shock of this agonizing tragedy has shielded my body from feeling the full effects of it. It’s a natural physiological mechanism God gave us to literally protect us from events that could potentially do severe damage to our bodies (even to the extreme of causing death, itself). In my case, shock has been a “friend” for quite awhile. I had a short stint with it following Chris’ death but got through it relatively quickly. This time, not so much. Believe it or not, I want my “friend” back (sort of).
I don’t want to feel all that I’m now feeling. Being on this side of it, I prefer “living in the dark”, so to speak. All the gut-wrenching, heart-tearing, “stuff” I’m now feeling is WORSE than living those first few days all over again. I had a shell of protection around me then. Now. It’s. Gone.
Then, there’s the realist in me. I really don’t want to live like this forever. I really don’t. I want God to heal my heart to the point I’m able to remember my love in such a way it brings more smiles than tears. I don’t want to cry in front of perfect strangers each time they say something (no matter how small) that might bring up a memory of Joel. I want to be able to drive by Exit 105 on Interstate 40 going East through Morganton, NC without feeling nauseous each time that tall white building looms into view where my husband took his last breath on this earth. I really DO want to be well. I’m just having quite a bit of difficulty getting to that point. Time is my friend, but it feels like it’s moving at a snail’s pace right now.
#HeIsStillGood
Time will pass at that snails pace for
what seems like FOREVER to that
healing point on the path that grief takes.
I have been on that slow path
as well. At a place of healing?
Maybe, most days now, the three of us are.
I lost my beloved John almost exactly
a year (2-16-16) before you lost your
beloved Joel.
Together we adopted two sons so I can
visualize some of your path with your
own grief and the children’s grief as well.
My thoughts are with you in your journey.
Kris