. . . in a week, it will be November 5 . . .

“God will never take anything away from you without the intention of

replacing it with something much better.”

I have read this quote, or a variation of it several times this past

year.  I can’t say that I agree with it.  What Rickey and I shared was

good.  It was very good.  We were happy.  We were blessed with

wonderful kids, grandkids, friends and family.  We loved each other.

We very rarely argued.  We had a nice home, close to both sets of

parents.  We had good jobs that we (for the most part) liked.  We

didn’t have lots of money, but we had enough to get by.  We enjoyed

life.  We loved each other and yes, after almost 20 years of marriage,

we still liked each other.  If we weren’t working or the girls & I

weren’t shopping or Rickey wasn’t hunting, we spent our spare time

together.  We didn’t do a lot of things with other couples, we were

content to be together with each other and as a family.  Yes, it was

good.  Very good.  In all honesty, it couldn’t get much better.

Except for Heaven.  Heaven would be better, much, much, much better!

Maybe this quote applies to Rickey, not me.  He was taken away from

the life he knew, but it was replaced with Heaven.  A place that you

and I can only imagine.  A place that, even if he could come back

from, he wouldn’t want to.  Yes, that must be it, a quote like that

applies to Rickey, not me.  Not us.

Life was good, and happy, and very blessed . . . And on November 5,

2011, life as we knew it came to a screeching halt.  The song “Closer

to Love” by Matt Kearney says: “She got the phone call today, one out

of the gray, and when the smoke cleared, it took her breath away.  She

said she didn’t believe it could happen to me.  I GUESS WE’RE ALL ONE

PHONE CALL FROM OUR KNEES . . . “  Well, not a phone call, but a visit

from a police officer, and that describes November 5, 2011 perfectly.

A day I will not forget.  Images I will not forget.  The look on my

big girl’s face as she stood in the driveway with our Pastor, his wife

and a police officer, wondering WHAT was going on.  My 2 big girls

clinging to each other on the ride (the oh, so long, but way too short

ride) to the hospital & all the phone calls we made.  The empty room

they brought us to and the Dr.'s face.  My Mama & Daddy coming to the

E.R. and the anguish on their faces and in their cries.  

Cries for the loss of Rickey and for the pain they knew we were enduring

their pain almost doubled because of their intense love for the girls and me. 

My “baby” walking to me in the E.R. as I was on the phone talking to the transplant

co-ordinator - helping the transplant team procure her Daddy's 

corneas and other life saving (for others) tissues/bones.  

Our families, friends & church family who came to the

hospital, to the house, the funeral home . . . the disbelief in their

eyes . . . picture collages, flowers, plants, 700 + people wearing

Packer jerseys and camo . . . and a wooden casket . . . 

Images I will never forget.

Memories that flood back.  Every day.  Every single day.  Some days

more often than others.  Some days more vividly.  Yesterday was Sunday.  I worked

Saturday night (11:00 p.m. – 7:00 a.m.).  I came home and slept for 2

hours and then went to church.  There was a time when I didn’t want to

go to church.  I was disappointed in “the church”.   God had to do a

work of restoration in my life.  He had to bring about a right spirit

within me.  He had to restore my (misplaced) faith in others.  And, He

did.  Now, rather than using working all night as an excuse not to go

to church, I make sure that I can still make it (and try my best not

to fall asleep!).  I enjoy the fellowship, the music, the sermon, the

“family” that church offers.  Today, I realized that a year ago,

marked Rickey’s last Sunday in church.  Another image.  Another

memory.  Forever etched in my mind.  We are closing in on “one year” -

next Monday marks that "anniversary".  Somehow, some people seem to look

on that particular date as a “milestone” it seems.  Like after a year,

things will change.  Things will be easier (or harder).  As if a "magic" switch

will be turned at that point.  Like after a

year, it’s o.k. to “move on”, but before that, you should stand still

in your grief.   I did a little looking and Biblically, the “numbers”

I find regarding grieving are that the Egyptians mourned Jacob’s death

for 70 days and the Jews “mourn” for 7 days.  I found other references

to 30 days and 40 days to “mourn” or “grieve” (I’m sure there are

others – these are the ones that I found).  I also did some research

on the word(s) grief/grieving.  To grieve is the “intense” feeling of loss. 

“Keen” (sharp, piercine, biting) mental suffering is actually found on Dictionary.com as

a definition for grief.  I know that feeling.  That feeling of not

knowing how you will make it from one breath to the next, much less

from one day to the next.  I know it all too well.  I have lived it.

I also know that the “intense”, the “keen” sense of grief is replaced.

 First with a numbness, and then a sadness.  A sadness that things

will never be as they were.  A sadness for all that was and never will

be again.  A sadness for all that Rickey will miss (or more

accurately, the things we will miss having him here with us for).  A

sadness for all the tomorrows that will not be as we imagined.  There

is no magic number.  There is no date or time that grief changes to

numbness and then to sadness.  It is a progression – and a progression

that is different for EVERY SINGLE PERSON – no two people can or will

grieve the same.  For some, it will take years, some truly never get

over a loss . . . I do believe that God is the divine healer.  If we

cling to Him, He will bring about the healing, He will allow us to

move on.  He is the only one who can change the grief to numbness to

sadness, and ultimately beyond.  The sadness will always linger.  At

times it will be much more profound than others.  When I see the girls

excel at something, there will always be sadness (their Daddy SHOULD

be here to share in this moment).  When the grandkids go outside and

shout “Hi Papa” at the sky - to say “Hi” to Papa in Heaven (he should

be here to say hi back to them).   When someone shoots a nice buck or

a big bear . . . there are countless times that the sadness will

strike.  It will come out of nowhere, it will come unbidden, it will

wash over us like a tsunami.  It will always “be”.  We will never not

love Rickey.  We will never not miss him.  This was a death, not a

divorce - Rickey left loving us and being fully loved by us . . .

those are truths that will always remain.  I became a true "single

parent" - in an instant - with no warning - we became instantly the

"widow and the orphans" spoken of in the Bible.  We will probably

always wonder “why” – until we get to Heaven all is made clear.

As the days march on, and we close in on this November 5, I still

believe that God has a divine plan for my life.  That He had a divine

plan for Rickey’s life AND death.  Psalm 139:16 says, “Your eyes saw

my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your

book before one of them came to be.”  Yes, if I believe that, God has

a plan for my life, He had a plan for Rickey’s life, and He knew what

November 5, 2011 would bring.  I will never fully understand God’s

plan for our lives.  I will never fully know why He chose us to walk

this path.  This path of grief and sorrow and loss and pain.  This

path that, had I been given a choice, I’d have never chosen to walk.

My prayer is that I can walk it graciously, and that in walking it,

Rickey’s life and death, and our journey could lead someone to Heaven.

  That someone would be drawn to God, back to God or closer to God

through our journey.

“I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born.”

  I  like this saying MUCH better.  God did cause (allow) pain.  That is a

truth that cannot be denied.  Pain, grief, sadness, anger, anguish . .

. all have been a part of this past year.  Yet, God, who DID allow

those feelings, has also allowed something new to be born though there

were tears and sadness, there has also been laughter, there are smiles

and hugs and yes, even joy.  Not better, not even to be compared, just

something new.  I like that.  Life is different.  Changes that I could

never have imagined one year ago today have taken place.  Pain has

come, but healing and new has been born as well.  I quit a job that I,

for a long time, loved.  My new job is in the E.R. at the hospital –

the same place my pain started November 5 last year (…but imagine

this, God in His sovereignty had my schedule work out so that I will

not be working on November 5 this year – just a little “buffer” for my

still tender heart).  We now have a college aged child and two who are

being home-schooled.  I have gained some dear friends over the past

year, some who have walked the “widow” road and truly “get-it”, and

some (old friends, now more like sisters) some here close to me

and some, from a long distance - who support me often with

phone calls, e-mails, text & facebook messages, who have come along side and

walked with me – sometimes just “being there” quietly, and sometimes

“babbling” like a brook because they didn’t know “what” to say but

they have done their best, and together, we have all learned so much!

Changes, so very many of them . . . “New things being born”!

God also allowed more “new” to be born in my life . . . Ashley Beth

told me that she thinks it’s cool that God brought me “another” Rick.

At first, I thought it was a little eerie, “Really, God, his name is

Rick?”  But, I now agree with Ashley.  It’s cool.  It’s good.  It’s

new.  Something “new” WAS born.  Something from God’s hand.  For 20

years, I loved Rickey (dearly), now I have a God given love for my

"new" Rick . . . a new love that God gave me, a new reason to smile

and to look with anticipation towards the future!  Someone who loves

me – and the kids.  Someone who cares about me – and the kids.

Someone who understands that Rickey will always be a part of our

lives, and is o.k. with that.  Someone who does not desire to “take

Rickey’s place” as daddy (and has said that he knows he never could)

but who wants to be a “bonus” to the kids.  Someone who wants to see

my tomorrows with me – and who holds my hand through the difficult

“todays”.  I have been BLESSED.  Twice blessed.  I have loved and lost

– deeply.  And God has allowed me to love again.  God has allowed

something new to be born.  As this past year draws to its “close”, and

all of the dreaded “firsts” will soon be behind us, I find myself in

closer communion with the Lord than I have ever been.  I find myself

trusting Him more and more every single day.  I find myself releasing

more of me to Him every step of the way.  I find that He is my “all in

all”.  He is my strength when I am weak and the treasure that I seek.

I have found that when I trust Him, and turn it all over to Him, He

does protect me.  He does love me.  He does restore.  I have seen

myself change.  I have seen myself become less concerned abou the

"little things" that shouldn't matter (I'm still working on it!).  I

find that I love easier and forgive quicker.  I am much more willing

to compromise and I cherish every moment and every day - knowing that

it is all that is promised to me!  Life is not always easy.  It does

not always go as we had planned.  There are bumps, and turns,

mountains and valleys.  The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, {but}

still I will say, Blessed be the NAME of the LORD!