Feeling restless

I've begun to feel a strange restlessness, or a sense of being unsettled or even slightly uncomfortable with my world as it stands right now. The world doesn't seem quite right to me. And this isn't all about the loss of Faye or grief.

Rather than being a grief symptom this restlessness is more like the way a wound starts itching as it heals. The reality is that I will have more ups and downs and low points as time moves on but I think this strange new feeling is about healing and recovery, not about grief directly.

I'm getting ready to embrace something new, but what? I for sure don't know right now but I'm being prepared.

Pressing on to my high call.

Multi level grief

I'm working through a book called The Grief Recovery Handbook and I'm finding it to be very helpful.

One of the exercises is a grief timeline, which I did a few days ago. A second exercise could be called  completing relationship.

As grieving people explore their grief timeline they may be surprised at how often they have been struck by grief. It will not only be about the death of people they love but a lot of other stressful, grieving situations.

Let's see there could be divorce, rejection, business failure and moves away from friends and family.

My discovery is that grief is multi-layered. As sharp and painful as Faye's death has been it is layered with times I have experience rejection and stress of many kinds.

Final healing is not possible with incomplete relationships still in your life. Completing those relationships may not be a long or difficult ordeal but it does need to be done.

Pressing on.

Good news and bad news

The good news is the fact that I'm well past the initial shock of finding Faye dead one morning.

It was immensely shocking to find my health-obsessed bundle of energy gone, just like that. I was numb for the longest time.

The bad news is that shock is an anaesthetic. It literally left numb and somewhat beyond pain. With the passing of shock I've lost that anaesthetic. And that means a whole new type of pain.

Now I have the ongoing pain of rebuilding my life without Faye. I'll make it. I know I'll make. God is with me and He is sufficient. I say that with absolute confidence.

However I have the ongoing labor of healing ahead. That doesn't just mean getting past the sorrow. I will. But it also means living without the person who helped me keep my household and my life together.

Faye did so much for us. Now I have to do it alone.

Not alone, because God is with me. But, still, alone.

Pressing on.

The little things

As time passes, I'm finding the little things are what I miss the most about Faye.

I mean those little, quite trivial, conversations we would have. For instance mentioning the unusually heavy traffic I encountered while driving. Or talking about the sermon as we drive home from church, or that mutual acquaintance I find difficult to like.

None of these things are significant but there is nobody else I can talk to about these things. Some of them are private, things I would talk about only to my wife. Some of them are just to trivial to talk about with others.

I miss pushing Faye to get ready for church on time. Oddly, enough I find myself leaving too late now.

I miss brief conversations about family.

There is no replacement for Faye for these things. I miss her.

A word of explanation

Please don't take this blog of evidence that I'm suffering or brooding. I'm talking as honestly as I can about grief and recovery and about Faye.

This is something I'm doing very deliberately and fore thought. It is being written with healing in mind and it is helpful.

In time I plan to turn this into a book which I honestly believe will be helpful to others.

By the way my worst days now are better than my best days were six months.

God's grace is wonderful.

Remember Your Smile

Remembering her smile

I always said my Faye had the most beautiful smile in the world and I meant it. Her smile was beautiful because it was real, it was sincere, it involved her whole sweet face and it revealed her heart.

I've been thinking about Faye's smile--in a fond way, not a sad way--since listening to a song by Enya called Remember Your Smile.

As I was thinking about that beautiful song I felt God let me know that, even as I remember my Queen, He will give me new and fresh joys again. Healing is coming.

Pressing on.

Grief timeline

One of the exercises in the Grief Recovery Handbook is to map out a grief timeline from birth until today.
I was to include everything that would cause grief or serious emotional disruption. I did that today.

Good grief. I didn't realize the amount of grief I've experienced. As I look back there's been a lot. Even as I say I'm sure there is nothing unusual in my life in that aspect but my father died in 1960, my Mom died in 2007. Coworkers and friends died in the next few years after that. And my Faye died this year.

Since then I've had another friend and two other friends become seriously ill with cancer. That doesn't include the disruption of moves and the poverty of growing up in a single parent home.

Every one of those events left a mark on my soul. But I don't feel sorry for myself because in the process I've found that people are resilient and strong. I've made it through that stuff and I will make it through this.

God is with me. I know that. He will be with me now as He was with me throughout my life.

Thank you, Lord, for your ongoing presence and grace.

Temporary energy restorers

Part of the process of grieving is to turn to temporary energy relief.
Some of them are food, alcohol, busy-ness, exercise and retail therapy.
I certainly haven't slipped into busy-ness and alcohol hasn't been a factor. To be honest, it maybe was, very briefly, but that's entirely out of my system.
But food, yes. I know how to eat properly. I know what my body responds to but sometimes I just don't care so I shove food into my face my body doesn't need and I might not even like. But there still are times I just don't care. So I eat stupidly.
Retail therapy--somewhat, mostly in the area of book purchases. Faye didn't like me buying as many books as I liked to buy. So I've spent a lot of time in bookstores over the last seven months. That's slowed down as well.
Exercise? Maybe. I've hired a personal trainer who pushes me hard. I've mostly done this for the sake of my fitness but whenever I see my trainer I know I will have an hour when I don't think about one single thing apart from my next rep.
Yes, temporary energy relievers are a reality. I know that. But I also know they're know they are only temporary.
Pressing on.

Isolation

I've been working my way through the Grief Recovery Handbook. One of the exercises is identifying dangers to the recovery process.
My number one danger clearly, clearly, is isolation.
I honestly don't believe I'm in that place. I have people in my life. And I have a business and I do get out and about.
But I would find it easy to withdraw. Faye was my extroverted, sociable, other half. She kept drawing people into our lives and drawing me into people she had met.
I don't have that in my life anymore. Being extroverted Faye is deeply difficult for me. And, honestly, I have a tendency to believe I can make it on my own.
I'm not going to be Faye but I need people in my life. So I will choose to press into that.

Truth

One of the things I wonder about is the need for  grieving people to be truthful about the person they've lost.

I have been absolutely truthful about Faye. I honestly believe she had the most beautiful smile in the world. I believe every word I've said about her lack of guile and the sweetness of her heart. She was honest to the bone--truly.

But I'm not confident Faye is in Heaven today because of how good she was. She's in Heaven because of God's grace and her reliance on grace for salvation.

In addition to be all those genuinely good things Faye was also a driven workaholic. Which meant it was hard to get her to slow down and spend an evening relaxing with me. She needed to be reminded to say hello before asking me to help with a challenge she was having with her computer.

I fully believe Faye is busy in Heaven as she was on earth, with every element of the curse fallen off.

A wonderful, sweet lady, yes. Perfect, no. And I'm smiling while writing.

This is hard work

Dealing with grief is hard work. Recovering my life consumes an enormous amount of energy. Whether I choose to focus energy on a grieving process, as I am doing, or you simply drift through life after serious it will consume energy.
It is tiring physically and it is emotionally draining to grieve.
And I can't book a weekend off. Grief doesn't work that way. I have good moments and even days. I am getting my life together. But thoughts of my sweetheart are never far away. And while memories are slowly getting sweeter sadness is rarely far away.
My point is--grief recovery is work. Hard work. And there is no time off.
I am dependent on the grace and love of God. And I keep moving forward, sometimes by millimetres a day.
But I do grind forward.

The last thing

The very last thing Faye did in this life was to run a mug of the water she loved to drink. She managed to turn the tap off before her mug overflowed and then her sweet heart stopped.
In the very next instant she was in the presence of Jesus and able to drink from the sweetest water she had ever tasted.
I am happy for her. Truly, I am. I'm entirely confident she is alive today in the presence of Jesus.
But my continues to ache. And I don't believe there is any contradiction in that.
To grieve and to rejoice simultaneously is a paradox but not a contradiction.
I rejoice for her, but I miss her.

Vera Lynn - We'll Meet Again; But I do know where, not when but where.

Her great reward

The Lord has been reminding me repeatedly that death was not, somehow, punishment for Faye, it was her great reward.
The first chapter is past but a glorious future has begun.
I grieve, but with confidence and even joy for my Faye.

This journey

This journey I'm on is longer and harder than anyone who hasn't taken it can know.

Daily sadness remains a reality. I'm doing much, much better than I was a couple of months ago but I've realized the focus of my life is still scratching my way off the mountain I was stranded on January 17.

I will conquer this mountain. God is with me. But the battle continues.