Aug 16, 2020

Birth, Death, Joy, Grief (25)

“Never be afraid to trust an unknown future

To a known God”

·      Corrie ten Bloom

My wife of 59 years (June 10, 2020) and best friend Eileen had been diagnosed with terminal cancer of the esophagus, in February 2019. Eileen died on February 22, 2020, the day following the birth of our latest granddaughter, Maria; the funeral was March 4, 2020, and the burial was July 3, 2020. This blog gives my thoughts, fears, prayers, and hopes during this challenging and difficult time looking at the space in my life.

I am home, driving in from Ohio on Wednesday. It was actually somewhat of a blessing that I waited coming home, as Ohio was removed from the banned states on Tuesday! Otherwise, I would still be locked down. Tom is doing well, all things considered. His eye is healing nicely, and he was measured a nice 20/30 at the doctor on Thursday. I have talked to him twice since I came home, and he seems to be doing all right. He said that he was being careful, and not bending over far under any condition. He will require someone to do all the house-keeping, as he won’t be picking anything up from the floor, until someone buys one of those grabbers for him. Even then he will have to be very careful.

This Sunday I will be making up for missing church all those weeks, as both St. Patrick’s in Whitney Point (8:30) and St. Margarete’s in Homer (10;30) have masses for Eileen, and Barbara and I will have attended both when you read this. It is good to be home, and now I have to make up all the things I need to  catch up on. My bonsai look good but weedy, and since it is August I will not be fertilizing any more so they can harden off for the winter. I will also not trim them, as trimming spurs growth and that would put them at a weakened state for the winter. But I will weed them, and determine which need replanting next year. I did not replant any this year, as I was pulled in too many directions to spend any thought time in that process. (Repotting bonsai is part of the art of bonsai: which way is forward, can I see the movement of the trunk, does the direction of the style look pleasing, and so many other things to ponder. My method is to stare at the plant, rotate it and tilt it, and generally move it around until I think it will look ‘best’ like so-and-so, then pot it like that.)

Barbara is still with me, but the house seems so empty without Eileen. Dan, Alisandra, and Maria plan on returning sometime soon, and that will bring activity to bear again.

My basic nature is a seeker of knowledge, generally by reading or various on-line courses. But losing Eileen brings some spiritual truths to the forefront: there is a vast difference between “looking at” something, and “being in” that same something. I had read many books on grief over the years, and I had refreshed my memory on that topic while we worked with the doctors to ease any pain, so I thought I was prepared for the death of Eileen. But that was only “looking at”. Now I am “in the flow” of that fact; and it is totally different. Sometimes I am simply overwhelmed by that fact: no matter where I turn, space seems empty. Oh yes, I can escape for a few minutes by reading a good novel, even laugh with the antics of young grandchildren (how I love them!), but the totality of the loss often seems crushing. I know there will be a light at the end of the tunnel, and it does seem more real now, but I keep waiting for her—-and waiting.

Now that I am home, as the time away with my brother has been both blessing and a curse. As a blessing, it put my mind on the welfare of my brother, as he needed me more than my grief for Eileen did. But even then, at three in the morning, the loss would become front and center, and I would pace the floor, using my mantra to ease the pain. Yes it worked, but often it would take an hour or more. Last night I slept for over 9 hours, (which I seldom do) and was only woken by a phone call. Maybe God is giving me some release, but I shall see. I have been warned that grief is cyclic, but will slowly diminish in intensity as time flows by. I will have visited the gravesite by the time you read this, and will see what Eileen has to say about it.

I am writing this on Saturday eve, and we have just finished dinner. I watched in awe as God and nature put on a marvelous display. First, as evening approached, a young buck came out from our woods, and browsed along the edge of the mown area in the lower pasture. I have always found it amazing that such large animals exist right among us, but we seldom see them in the wild unless we are quiet. Then a bald eagle soared up from the river in the valley below and swept quite low overhead, its 6-foot wingspan absolutely awesome. We have a natural vee in the woods below us, from my cutting trees that block the view over the years, but this is the first time we have seen a bald eagle come up from the river below, where I have seen them now for several years. indeed, God is good, and puts on wonderful exhibits when we are attentive.

Meditation

My Delightful One, You have shown me Your beauty as expressed in nature once again. You ease my pain of loss by filling my life with beauty, and I bow in gratitude for Your gift. You are exclaiming that life is meant to be lived, and I know that Eileen would want me to live life to the fullest. I know that she sees the world through my eyes now, and laughed and clapped in delight at the sight. I ask for Your solace, and aid in finding life once again as the beauty that I know it is.