Posted May 13, 2009 (3 weeks into widowhood)
I knew it was going to be difficult to come home, but I also knew that procrastinating wasn’t going to make it any easier. It was time to face my new reality: my new life as a widow. Sarah wasn’t gone very long before the first tidal wave of emotion hit me full force. I didn’t know a person could cry non-stop for 15 minutes, then stop just long enough to catch my breath and be knocked down by another wave when I turned on my computer and saw our user names on the screen. Although I will always carry him closely in my heart, the reality of the fact that “Buck and Renee’” no longer exist hit me like a ton of bricks. Before I could recover from that wave, my screen saver with my favorite picture of Buck and I together: the same one that is on the Carepage and followed Buck everywhere he went, popped up on my monitor screen. That image brought the biggest wave, and I wept until my stomach hurt.
This went on through the night, somehow being able to get through my phone calls with my sister, Colleen and later talking with my Mom and Dad. I promised that we would get together someday this week or maybe next, to celebrate Mother’s Day. Sarah and I did our celebrating together on Friday before she brought me home. I knew I would be in no condition to make it to church on Mother’s Day, It was clear that I needed to spend some time alone, just the Lord and I. I was in need of some one on one time. At bedtime, I was emotionally exhausted and I read from my devotional: God Calling, a gift from my friend, Eva. The entry for April 21st (the day Buck died) read: Do not fear changes. You can never fear changes when I, your Lord, change not. Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, and forever. I am beside you. Steadfastness, unchangingness, come to you, too, as you dwell with Me. Rest in Me. Those words comforted and calmed me. Thank you Lord, for the reminder that you are always near.
The Lord has also used all of you to bring me comfort and I know He will be faithful to continue to provide everything I need in the days to come, just as He has since New Year’s Day and throughout my whole life, but I know that no one can protect me from this part of my journey. As my friend Pat said, “ It is normal and necessary”.
I learned very quickly on Saturday night, that a bath towel is very useful when one is grieving. It is soft, absorbent and can be carried comfortably around my neck, close at hand whenever the need arises; much better than bandanas or tissues. Maybe I’ll save a tree or two. I’ll call it, “Grieving~ Green Style”!
Mother’s Day brought more tidal waves as I went through my day, especially as I read the large pile of sympathy cards that awaited my return home. I sat on the front porch that Buck and I built together and cried my way through the afternoon as so many of the cards deeply touched me. They shared words of love and encouragement and remembrances about Buck and how they so appreciated, respected and enjoyed him. Messages came from family members, new neighbors and people I haven’t heard from in years. Comforting words and promised prayers came from our York Caretaker family and one from our social worker, Bernice and Nurse, Janine from UMMC. Loving notes showed up from long time (notice I didn’t say old) friends, new friends and friends from afar. Cards arrived from Georgia, Colorado and Australia and inspired much weeping as I realized how much my Sweetheart meant to so many. I even received several hand painted cards from two artist friends~ one that included a poem that the Lord had inspired, along with a lovely bookmark, which was inscribed with the same poem ~ how beautiful and wonderful all those messages of love were to me!