This morning I woke up and could not get going. I was alone in the house while my sister and Anahi were running some errands, and one of Julie’s favorite songs was playing on the radio. I began to cry. "God, how long? When will I see the other side?"
As paradoxical as it may sound, I am actually beginning to long for the next grief surge. It has become the new familiar thing. It’s the one connection I have with my past. It’s the time I have to myself to think of two great loves that enriched my life for 15 years. Thinking about the son I had, who made me a dad and brought fatherhood out of me. Pondering how love grows deeper over the years. Thinking about the incredible wife God gave me, who loved me unconditionally and made me a better person. Now all of that is gone, and I am left with just a quiet house and tears.
But I am also aware that life never stops and is constantly moving forward, even if I am moving very slowly right now. People move on. Many of you have been there for me since day one. But I realize that empathy can last only so long. I have never considered myself a passive person. I don’t like to be stuck. I praise and admire proactive people. I enjoy going somewhere in life. But this is very hard. If I had let my humanity run my emotions, and forgotten that I have a God who holds me in the palm of his hand, I would have given up long ago. Life without hope of restoration would be very difficult.
I have taken steps forward, but I still wake up some mornings wondering when I will truly laugh again (I mean from deep within). When will I be cruising again on the highway of life fulfillment? Narrow roads, winding paths, and lonely stretches have been the norm this year. I don’t want to sound like a complainer because I have been blessed with wonderful friends, so many prayers, and the love of my immediate family. On top of that I have a little daughter who does not let one day go by without giving me kisses and telling me that she loves me. But I am tired of crying, of missing my loved ones, of spending hours learning new skills, of taking responsibility for new tasks.
When does grieving end? Some say "Never;" others say, "Just wait; you will laugh again." The Bible says that God will turn our mourning into dancing. Others say the pain will gradually fade into your memory bank. In a sense, I have found truth in all of these statements.
Some days I want to be done with grieving. I want to write in my journal: "I woke up this morning, and life is good. I am not hurting anymore, and I am moving forward." But I know that the line between the past and the present is never that clear. We are constantly embracing our past and weaving it into the present. The future can be new and good, depending on what I do with the good and bad of my past.
Some days I think I am over the worst of it. But then I wake realizing that I am on the journey like anyone else dealing with his or her past and hoping that tomorrow will bring a new season of joy, renewed dreams, and fulfillment.