Sunday Post 60: We’re OK

Posted by Danny

This post is for those who have recently lost a loved one.

I was out with my buddy Brad on Monday night.  I wish everyone had a friend like him.

We were talking about life; nothing is off-limits.  We’re sworn to secrecy – sort of like Vegas.

We spent time reflecting on the hard days that have passed, and then he asked me –

“Can you remember yourself two years ago?  The nights we sat on your porch?  You couldn’t stop crying.  You told me you didn’t think you could face life.  You told me you didn’t know how to raise three girls on your own.  You said you didn’t think you’d ever see happiness again.  Do you remember that?”

Boy, do I.  Painful, painful memories.

Recently my mom emailed:  “I remember the week after Lisa died.  You came to our house for the weekend.  We were all so sad – trying to put on a good face for the girls.  On Sunday morning, you couldn’t get out of the bed.  You just lay there – lethargic.  We tried to help but finally left you alone.  Later that day, I came back upstairs.  You sat up and said, ‘I told Lisa I would take care of the girls.  I’m not doing that now.  I’ve got to get up.  I promised I would.’  And you’ve done it.  You did what you promised.”

I spent well over a year obsessing about being alone.  The thought of all of the kids being gone at once was too much to bear.  I couldn’t wait for Jesse to get home at night – just longing for the presence of another adult in the house.  The fear that I’d never get remarried was overwhelming.

But now, the fears are less.  I’m finding that time alone is OK – and on occasion, even welcome.  And if I grow old single, that may be alright too.  I don’t feel the pressure that I did even six months ago – pressure to rectify my situation.

Last week there were times that I was tossed right back into the abyss of grief.  It pops up unexpectedly, but passes much more quickly.

I still miss Lisa – I think of her countless times each day.  Sometimes I talk to her.  Often I look up as if I can see that infamous eye roll. 

But I don’t expect to wake up and find her next to me.  I know we’ll meet again, and that allows me to move toward the future.

So do two years away from her death automatically bring happiness?

Not automatically – it has taken much work.  It has taken dancing and music and piano playing uncles.  A Christmas Carol was helpful and weekends with friends.  And an acceptance that at times, I’ll fall back down – and that that is OK.  Picking yourself up after a small step backward gives momentum to leap forward.

I’ve decided that we’re going to be OK.

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13 Comments

  1. Melanie Walker

     /  February 26, 2012

    You are beyond okay. And you are truly loved by so many. And everyone does deserve a Brad Davis, what a nice thought.

    Reply
  2. Elena

     /  February 26, 2012

    My prayers are being answered, you are a good man thrown into am awful situation and you have done an amazing job but only you could not see it. You have lived an authentic life, it was made unfairly raw but you have lived it with dignity for your beautiful angels. We have prayed that you could see you are living an example for all around you. I am glad you are seeing yourself through this new lense. Continue your good works realizing you are doing a good, no, great job!

    Reply
  3. Beautifully written with the tensity of the human heart!

    Reply
  4. Aunt Susan

     /  February 26, 2012

    You are soooooooo o.k., and moving on.
    God Bless

    Reply
  5. Wren

     /  February 26, 2012

    Dearest Bruce ~

    Robert & I read with great joy (and a bit of emotion) your post today. As we prepare our hearts for Easter, it’s truly a gift to know that through God and His deep roots and presence in your life and soul that you are finding your light on the other side of your darkness. And your gratitude on the other side of your grief. It’s a lifelong journey ~ and as we have maybe shared ~ we read once that “one has never truly lived until they have grieved.”

    Peace be with you, The Rehms +

    Reply
  6. Pam D.

     /  February 26, 2012

    I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. ~Phil. 4:13. I have relied a lot on this verse lately.

    Reply
  7. I can feel each pain and longing for a love one who left us and no hope of coming back. This is one tragedy that can happen to anyone. I just wish and pray God will continue to strengthen you one day at a time. This kept me quiet when your wrote, “But I don’t expect to wake up and find her next to me. I know we’ll meet again, and that allows me to move toward the future.” You are still bless with 3 lovely daughters, their love and belief in you will help you move on…

    Reply
  8. It’s ironic how one can go from laughing to tears at the drop of a hat. I was just laughing about your pedicure post and now I’m in tears. Your writing is so real and I think that is what is so special about your blog. Not many men openly share their heart and it’s refreshing to see the few that do. The Lord bless you!

    Reply

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