Recently at church there was a lesson about improving relationships. Part of the discussion focused on your relationships with your spouse, family, and friends but the discussion also included your relationship with the Savior. They talked about the importance of trust and communication and how they need to go both ways. At one point when talking about their relationship with Christ, someone talked about how much more challenging it is to form a relationship with someone who isn't physically there. Someone you can't talk to and communicate with in the traditional sense. While they were referring to the Savior, it hurt immensely to know that it also applied to my husband as well. I miss him so much! I yearn to talk to him, to feel his arms wrapped around me in love assuring me that things are going to be OK.
Even after 22 years of marriage, we could never run out of things to talk about. In 2017 when a surgery for tracheal stenosis (narrowing of his airway) landed him in the ICU on a ventilator, his desire to communicate was immediate when the sedation was lightened. He was great at writing one handed on a clipboard he couldn't see, even while his hands were restrained (a safety protocol to prevent an intubated patient from trying to pull out the tube in their airway). That was just the first of our ICU stays and ended with necessary placement of a trach. They told him it was likely he might never speak again. It was a such a hard realization to know that I might never hear his voice again. The silence in the car as we drove from the hospital was tough. As well one day on my way home from work I called him to tell him about my day, as I often had in the past. As soon as I dialed, I realized the error of my ways, and proceeded to fill the time telling him I loved him and that I knew he couldn't talk back but that I was on my way home. But... he overcame. It was difficult but he taught himself to talk with the trach. His voice was barely a whisper at first, but it was such a huge blessing. Slowly his voice got stronger, but we still often texted, because talking was exhausting. About a year and a half later, the trach that we were told he would have for life, was miraculously and suddenly removed. What a miracle!
As well, for us, COVID was a blessing. My job changed to working from home and we were able talk frequently throughout the day. The stark contrast from talking and being with him 24/7 to the nothing and silence of widowhood, is unbearable most days. I like to think that he's watching over me and is near me every chance he gets, but I also think that he's busy in whatever they do all day in heaven. This week I was finally able to meet with a therapist for the first time. I was able to be with my husband for nearly every single one of his doctor's appointments, hospital admissions and chemotherapy sessions. Even if I couldn't see or know if he was there, I hoped that the rules of heaven would allow him to attend this appointment with me. I was nervous but hopeful. After waiting so long I needed someone I could feel comfortable talking to. Not even 30 seconds into the conversation I was in tears when she asked why we were meeting. With tears running down my face I managed to get out "My husband died in December." Such painful words to say. She gently asked more questions and I shared with her the difficulties of my life. I shared with her that I found writing to be helpful and how my daily journal writing has turned into my communication with my sweetheart. That night I told him all about the visit and how the therapist said "Oh, wow!" at least a dozen times as I told her all we've been through. I told him how she was compassionate and understanding but surely was thinking "Holy crap, this girl has been through some seriously tough stuff." The one sided conversation with him was better than nothing and hopefully the future therapy sessions with her will help. She had ended the conversation by saying that not only was I dealing with the difficulty of grief, but of some difficult trauma as well.
I dreamed that we were on a vacation and had been shopping We were excited to find a small inexpensive item that he wanted to give to his nephews. They showed up in the same place we were and had baskets full of items they were excited for (although luckily not the one we had picked out). Seeing their excitement of the items they had just gotten I wanted to save it for special occasion. He wanted to give it to them right away. The dream ended with him mad at me and I awoke with an extra sense of unease and frustration. We both had had weird dreams throughout our marriage, and even though it wasn't logical, there was always a desire to make it right. Sometimes it was his dream and sometimes it was mine. There wasn't always time in the morning before we headed off to work and it would often bother us all day. We were eager to talk about it when we got home and somehow set things right. Even though it was a dream and not an event that happened, we both had the same desire to talk it out. Had anyone been home with me the day after that dream, they would have likely noticed that I was frustrated and irritable. But I was alone, again. I ached to talk to him, wrap my arms around him and tell him I was sorry. The desire to fix something that wasn't really broken in the first place, made so complicated when there was no way to fix it.
So as I navigate the dark and quiet path, struggling to find my way I must also be learning and fine tuning a skill. Feeling with my heart. When talking with a friend about my desire to know how to feel connected to my sweetheart, he shared these sweet and tender words...
"The way [Chris] is here is through the connection he has with others here on earth. He prompts me, and I believe it is when you are having a hard time and need that little extra acknowledgement that he is with you. It can be felt through others directed at you. In those moments, listen to the still small voice. Or the peace you feel when those reach out to you. It is him."
The thick the thick fog of grief makes so many things difficult, that it's no wonder why I struggle to feel connected. He always fought so hard to be with me here on earth that I like to think that he is doing anything he can to show me his love from heaven. This explanation that he would reach out to others who could reach out to me in a familiar, tangible way such as a text, e-mail, note or phone call made so much sense. As well it's such a blessing to know that others are thinking of him or feeling connected to him, as I think of him constantly.
Over the past few months as I think of my sweetheart, I often think in my mind or even whisper "I miss you!" But slowly I've realize that I need more.
We would tell each other numerous times throughout the day. "I love you!' So I began thinking or saying "I miss you! I love you!"
However I realized that I need even more than those six words. Death is not... and cannot be the end. So now I in addition to "I miss you! I love you! I often think or whisper "I'll see you again!" or "Can't Wait to See You" or just "One day..." A way to acknowledge the loss and sadness, a reminder that love is eternal and a promise to think of the future. Can you imagine the smile on both of our faces and the pure joy we will feel when that day comes?
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