Nov 01, 2020

 

Birth, Death, Joy, Grief (36) 

“Never be afraid to trust an unknown future 

To a known God” 

• Corrie ten Bloom 

My wife of almost 59 years (59 years on 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; 60 years to the day after we met; 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. 

11/01/2020                 My brother’s funeral in Ohio was this past Wednesday.  I felt that the risk of COVID was too great, so I didn’t attend, but my daughter Janet was able to drive from Pittsburgh and back in the same day and was able to attend. I did send flowers. There were no calling hours, but there was a time for visitation before the Mass. I want to remember those six weeks with Tom with joy, not the sadness of the end. 

I find myself keeping busy, doing busy things. Books to read, emails to throw away (and a few to read), Lego-like models to build, my guitar waiting for me to relearn after 20 years (15 minutes is all I can strum without finger pain; I find myself quickly remembering the fingering, even though my fingers are slow to form, and my broken finger (which was why I stopped playing) able to, so far, reach the string needed), more books to listen to, exercise (I am up to 25 minutes a day, 5-6 days a week on the treadmill while listening to a good book, right now by Fr. Richard Rohr), magazines by the dozen, and more. Anything but cling to memories, which I still do way too much, but they cannot take away the loss. I am beginning to understand the fear that one clings to memories because of the fear of forgetting; but one never forgets, just that it moves to a point where the memory is warm and bring joy that I could experience them, not overwhelmingly sad that similar memories will not be formed with that person; even though that emotion is still present, just not as strongly.  Yes, sometimes the pain sweeps through me and I stumble, but I must trust that God will gently lead me onward. 

And that does not count the (mis)adventures into learning how to cook. 

I think they call it acceptance. The pain never goes away, but it is just there, and life calls to move forward. God has placed me here for this length of time; gave me a partner closer than life itself for 60 years, but that leaves the question what can I do with the time I have left? I feel drawn to become closer to God, and I have been praying about that issue recently. (Yes, I still do that hour or so of prayer in the morning.) God responded with a phone call today (Saturday) from a group that I had recently joined that supports the poor, and someone from the local chapter called me and wanted to know if I was interested in joining the next zoom call. I said yes, and I shall see what happens next. I had not noticed that it is a local organization before this; just a group that I came across and was curious about, that works with the poor.  

Some call that accidental, I call it synchronicity. That is, the universe (God) hears what you say, and responds. In this case, immediately. I will wait to see how it develops. This is why I trust in the goodness of God to lead me day by day, even when things are bleak. (My book talks about this quite a bit.) Death is part of life, and all that lives shall suffer death eventually, even the universe itself. Yes, even myself, but I still have a purpose for my existence right now. The timing of the call is a bit uncanny, as it was only this morning during prayer time that the conviction became firm that I have to seek a further purpose in life, not just doing busy things. Then two hours later I get this phone call. 

Thus, life proceeds. 

Meditation  

Loving One, I trust You will give me the opportunities to give freely in life. The beauty and joy of life continue, tinged with loss and sorrow, but joy is still present in the wonderful surprises You give me. I trust in Your guidance, if I just look, the opportunities to live life fully will arise. I place myself in Your care, knowing that all will be well, indeed, all will be well.