Life Goes On . . . One Week Later

It's been one full week since Josh passed away. It's weird to say those words. As we grieve on, it's quite disappointing in many ways that life, work, events and activities all keep going even in the midst of great grief.

Can we have a big red pause button, please?

While I have a bit of a reprieve from work personally, my friends and family do not. It’s really, back to business as usual. I don't like this for them or me who is stuck in between.

Our family and friends have had some treasured days together, sharing our grief with one another, celebrating Josh's life and stumbling through all the bits and pieces. But Monday morning meant returning to work for nearly everyone. How do we do this? Head back to our separate locations where we aren’t able to physically be present with each other, where people don't even know the depth of our story, how heavy our hearts remain. 

Part of me wants to just kidnap everyone and take them to an exclusive tropical island so they have to stay with me in my grief. But that sounds crazy and maybe like a weird murder mystery. I need space to process as do they and returning to work and life is good. We’re all stumbling through, tired of crying, but not knowing how to stop. I know for sure, this water fountain that has begun in my eyes is not going to turn off for a long time – if ever. I just wish it had a better on/off switch that I could manage.

The switch flips often, at breakfast, lunch and even when heading in to see my nephew play football. I had to walk several laps before entering the stadium. However, when I finally entered, the most spectacular sunset was on display;  yet another reminder that the ultimate creator is still creating beauty in times of sorrow. 

Continued thoughts of, “Last time I was here, Josh was with me,” so easily slip in. I miss my husband fiercely and wonder how I going to do this. It’s not simply day by day at times but minute by minute, moment by moment.

Yes God is with me, he is healing up the crater that is now in my heart because I can no longer see, hear, touch and do life with my husband and friend. I continue to place my hope and trust in Jesus’ healing of my own heart and of those around me. Lifting up praise is hard too, but taking that step is also important.  

From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets, the name of the Lord is to be praised.
– Psalm 113:3