My heart goes out to Japan

Over the last few days, an immeasurable amount of people have been affected by Japan's earthquake, tsunami and the deaths that have resulted. Today my heart goes out to the young widows and widowers who will be coping with this terrible tragedy.

The Crazy Red Haired Lady

There are some days I just don't feel like I can be of help to other young widows and widowers anymore. I'm not in that same raw emotion from the first few years. Of course, if I think about Jeff long enough (okay, really only a few minutes) or I'm so overtired that the emotions just pour out of me, I'm back to square one even after all this time. Then there are other days I wonder how I've gotten here...ten years later...without losing it completely. There are days that I hate the situation I'm in and days I'm glad I'm so far along.

So to balance how I feel, I try to give you the resources of others who have also started to help other widows and widowers because they know that you might be young, but you're not alone. I'm still here...I'm still going...I'm still trying to help, but I'm not the only one. Check out this site too because you may relate to stuff that she's saying as well:

http://crazyredhairedlady.blogspot.com/

Getting through the holidays...

I know I'm a little late and I'm sorry, but my mom broke a rib and it's been a little crazy. I hope everyone got through the holiday okay. If you still need some help through the upcoming New Year's Eve holiday, here's a link with some good suggestions for you:

http://www.genconnect.com/relationships/how-to-cope-with-the-holidays-when-grieving/.

Remember, you may be young, but you're not alone.

How do I get through it?

Been receiving a lot of letters lately and am trying to get through them, but someone asked me, 'how do i get through it?' She lost her husband 3 weeks ago and has two young children, 2 years old and 5 months old. Here is my response to her:

I'm so sorry for your loss. and yes, it is three 'short' weeks ago. How do you do all of this...one day at a time. It's cliche but it's true. You get up for your kids and show them that life goes on. You show them that you hurt and that you get better, you show them that you fall apart and cry and then you know how to pull yourself together and do what needs to be done.

You show them how to make daddy proud.
You show them that no matter what's happened in your life you never use it as an excuse to do something bad or give up.
You show them how to survive adversity.
You show them emotions and you show them how to grieve and then you show them how to laugh and through them you get through it.
If you see a couple, you might be jealous/angry/grieving and it's normal. How do you go to the store by yourself? You take a big deep breath and go in or, if you have home delivery, you take advantage of that and go in another day.
How do you celebrate your daughter's first Christmas? It's very tough, but you give her something special. i'm sorry to say that 'she' won't remember this, but you will. Give her something special -- a framed photo of her dad or something
You ask for help and say thanks and then, when you need to, you lock the door and spend time with your children alone and you giggle and laugh because they're babies and that's what they do.
How do you get through this? With your husband's love and guidance from above, it's there.
And you know you can do it, but it's one step at a time and you do it for them and you be the best mommy you can be. And you'll do great. And it will hurt and suck and you'll hurt later on special occasions and then on other special occasions you'll be okay.
You get through this...one day at a time...with or without friends, with or without family...because you have to.

From the widow in Uganda

She has asked me to post her email address in case any other widows want to write to her and offer some support and advice. It is dorothymulungi(at)yahoo.com. Please take out the (at) and replace it with @.

New Book Redefines Concept Of Death and Offers 21 universal lessons for the living

I was sent information on this book. If you believe in this, it might be worth checking out.

Death is not the end of life but rather a transition from one phase of existence to the next; it is -- literally -- just the beginning. When Pam Adams' husband and soul mate, Raymond, was brutally murdered, she learned firsthand how very real 'life and after death' is. She reunited with her lost love through communications from beyond the grave. Her book Letters from Raymond is a heartwarming story about love between two soul mates that transcends the physical world. In it, Adams shares her story of triumph over tragedy and also offers readers 21 empowering lessons by which to live—shared directly from those in ‘transition.’

Adams—who established Raybert Lodge in 1999, a spiritual retreat in South Africa for bereavement and healing—was able to communicate with Raymond through a psychic medium to help readers make sense of life on earth. Letters From Raymond provides comfort to those who fear death and those who mourn the loss of loved ones. The book’s 21 life lessons—gleaned from Raymond’s after-life experiences—focus on love, compassion, and acceptance as being our true salvation.

Letters From Raymond is now available for purchase at www.authorhouse.co.uk, Amazon.com, and other online booksellers.

EXCERPT (Page 15-16)

I wanted to remember that beautiful smile when he had left me just a few hours ago. Oh my God! How could they have done this to him? This beautiful man who was kindness itself, had so much to give!! He had finally found the happiness that he deserved. We were so happy and totally in love. Our life together had only just begun, how could he leave me now? We had been looking at properties to build our own home. What about all our plans? What about the promise of this beautiful life that we were to share together?

The organ played softly as family, colleagues and friends waited outside of the church. I took my place in the front pew as the pallbearers carried in his coffin
and placed it reverently in front of me. I looked at it and wanted to rip it open! How could Ray be in there? He was so full of life and so real to me still. There was no way I could survive without this man! He was my life and my soul. How would I survive without those constant hugs? Those re-assurances of his total love and devotion! The service began as we stood up to sing a hymn. I had written a letter to be read in Ray’s memory. Brian Lister who conducted the service gently opened the letter and began to read:

“There was never any need to have said goodbye as each day was filled with so much love and tenderness. I could go to sleep at night feeling so fulfilled, happy
in the knowledge that everything that needed to be done, had been done, everything that needed to be said, had been said. Our life together was so complete and the love that we shared was so deep, there were no words that could possibly describe it. I was so privileged to have had the time with Ray and so honoured to have been his wife.”

A widow from Uganda

I recently got this letter from *Ann, a 37-years-old widow from Uganda. I wanted to share it to show you that people all over the world are going through what we go through. Some are even going through worse than others. (*I changed her name and took out some personal details she gave me. Oh and this is not one of those spam letters asking me for money, btw.)

"I was so excited to see that there is a site like this one. I asked myself if I was the only person going through what I am going through.

I am a woman who lost my husband and father of my children to HIV/Aids when I was 22 years in 1995. He left me with 2 daughters plus his one daughter whom l found him with and to make matters worse, for this girl, l did not know her mother. The mother had already died and l didn’t even know her aunties, so l had to accept her in my life. But my dear it has not been easy at all. Getting the funds to take my children to school, paying for our accommodations, buying food and the whole up-keep has not been easy at all.

And to make matters worse, because my husband died of HIV, I was discriminated by my own people and the public because during those days, whoever lost a partner to HIV, it was automatic that he/she is also going to flow. So they knew that I was going to die any time, getting a partner was impossible. Last year I tried putting up an advert in our local newspapers here, searching for a gentleman of the same status so that we could start up our own new life, but one of the correspondents was a conman who seduced me to get a salary loan and he took all the money from me without me knowing that he was stealing it, so I was so disappointed to see that one could take advantage of my situation/problem to benefit himself and his family. Can you imagine! How bad people can be!

We, the Africans, are very unfortunate that everyone is on his or her own and, mind you, when you lose a partner, even the friends who used to associate with you run away. I wish we had such associations this way. It could help us a lot to regain our identities.

It’s now 15 years down the road,but I completely lost my identity, people don’t even invite me for social functions like parties. It's like they are blaming me for my husband’s death. Am really so lonely..having no one to share with my experience and challenges...am in a completely different world because they don't know what am going through.

I thank God that am currently on ARVs with the other girl that my husband left me with (because she was also born with the virus) and at least we have some hope of waiting to see what will be in tomorrow.

But please keep that spirit up because there are so many people out there who need your services. During that time when the conman had just conned me, I felt like leaving this world for a while then I come back when the storm is over, but where could that be and where could I leave my children and with who. But I thank God that He has brought me this far and I wish I had seen this site then, it would have worked a lot to heal my heart."

Like I said when I started this site, "You might be young, but you're 'not' alone."

A widower's story

Dear Lisa,

"I just lost my wife in August at the age of 48. I think that it has just started hitting me the last couple of days that she is gone and not coming back. Today is a very hard day for me, and I feel like someone is standing on my chest, and I also feel very anxious. It comes and goes in waves, and it is awful.

She suffered a major heart attack in our home. She had been complaining of a sore back for the last six weeks or so, and finally went to the doctor a week prior to her heart attack because of the pain.

There was massive damage and she would have been left in a vegetative state. We all knew that she would have hated that, she always made that very clear, and decided we should take her off of life support.

I found one internet site and have a grief counselor Sand she gave me some information and provided me with a book on grief "I Can't Stop Crying" by John D. Martin and Frank D. Ferris MD. It helped a little when I first read it, maybe I need to read it again.

I really miss her, and I do not how to deal with this. I am not sleeping or eating properly, and I have a hard time trying to force myself to eat at this point. I know that I have to take better care of myself, but I am finding it so difficult right now. I am just so damn sad. How do people get through this?"

Well, we get through it the way you're getting through it right now, we find a counselor, read materials, get online, reach out, not eat, cry too much, eat a little, cry some more, see another counselor, and repeat the process until one day we start feeling just a little better and realize we didn't cry quite as much that day. Keep doing what you're doing. It's early in the process and you're getting there. Don't give up.

A new resource

Came across this site and thought it might be helpful to some of you. She has some books, articles and other info...

http://www.lngerst.com/

A great book...

"This is a journal about what happened to us…. One night, Dad just died and that was that." Twins Allie and Amy were eight years old and their brother David was four when their beloved father died in his sleep. Encouraged and guided by their mother, the three children kept a journal for almost two years. They wrote about the night he died, the funeral, the first week, the first year, the cemetery, their thoughts and feelings, their sadness and grief—and the future. Later, they looked back on what they had written and added new reflections. They also wrote suggestions for other kids who have experienced a similar loss. We were all deeply moved when we read this book. You will be, too. And, like us, you’ll be amazed at the strength and wisdom of Amy, Allie, and David—real children whose lives were abruptly and forever changed, and who chose to share their pain and learning with others. Recommended for anyone who has lost a loved one or knows someone who has.

Check your local library or buy your copy on Amazon.com.

A month of books

I was cleaning out my family room today and I have lots of books on grief and single parenting that I received and bought after I started this blog. I wanted to take a few weeks to pass on a few that I think are really worthwhile for you to read. I have not looked into whether or not they are still available for sale. If they aren't on Amazon or other book sites, check your local libraries or ebay if you're interested in buying them.

Today, I picked two that could help kids:

Both books are fantastic and really helped me to work through the grief with my children, who were 6, 4 and 2 at the time. "When Someone Very Special Dies" is perfect for all ages, but especially good for those children who are younger and may not be able to articulate their feelings. There are spaces for them to draw. "Helping Children Cope with the Loss of a Loved One," breaks down what to say to a child during their grief depending on how old they are.

Not quite sure what to say....

I haven't blogged since November and many of you who follow me have wondered what happened. First off, I'm okay and thanks for caring.

Second, I'm not quite sure why I stopped blogging. I think part of me wondered if I really was helping anyone. Jeff has been gone for 10 years and I know I can still help others in my situation with advice and comfort, but I wondered if I really said all I could say. I will admit that the 10 year anniversary knocked the wind out of me. I don't date a lot and have no desire to remarry, but I'm happy with the dates I go on and what I've done with my life. Yet, I felt stuck and alone for the first time in a long time. I worked through it and realized that it was okay for me to feel that way and I took baby steps to get back on track.

I still get letters from widows/widowers and I still find people who want to friend me on Facebook (I'm going to start a page for widows/widowers soon so you can all connect with each other instead of just with me). I've tried answering so many, but it's hard to keep up and with three teenagers in the house now, I've had to prioritize my time. If you're reading this and I haven't answered you yet, it's not because I don't care. I simply get so many letters and trying to answer them all can, sadly, become a full-time job at times.

Third, my own personal life got pretty chaotic. My oldest daughter, who many of you remember as only being six years old when Jeff died, is going off to college in August -- COLLEGE! We spent most of the fall and winter filling out college and scholarship applications, dealing with SATs, and me working my butt off on a few new books I have coming out so I could pay for it all. My son plays in five (count 'em) bands in and after school and my oldest is working now, so I think I have a new part-time job as a taxi driver.

I'm doing my best to figure this all out. I almost stopped for good, but I felt that wasn't fair to me or to you. I'm also trying to figure out what I could do differently to make this blog important to everyone. Please be patient with me. In the meantime, CNN ran an article today about finding others who are grieving (not necessarily just widows/widowers) online. You might find a new site that can help you:

http://www.cnn.com/2010/HEALTH/03/26/grieving.online/index.html?hpt=Sbin

If you're interested in friending me on Facebook, please do so and most importantly let me know you're one of the widows/widowers from this blog, but I won't respond until I have that group set up and all of you can talk to each other. I'm also thinking of getting back to the dating site I once set up for widows/widowers. If you're interested in either, let me know. As for the cruise I talked about some time ago, I am still considering it. It's taken time for me to look into it and get it organized and time has been a precious commodity to me right now. Again, I'll be in touch about that. And thank you all for being so awesome on this journey.

Mummy, it's hard for us too'

In 1998 her husband, Charlie, father of her two little girls, died suddenly of a heart disease. Kate Boydell describes what it's like to find you're a widow - aged only 33...

you can find the rest of the article here.

Dear Lisa (and readers...)

I received this email recently and the sender asked me to post it and see what others thought.

Dear Lisa,

God bless you for reaching out to the widowed. I just happen to find your website this morning when I am feeling overwhelmed again with grief after getting through the summer here in the northeast. I lost my husband in 2005 to a sudden heart attack. Your opening page of your website says it all. At this point , I'm either growing or I just continue making mistakes , or I am growing and learning and becoming stronger through all the decisions I have to make alone and they never seem like the right decisions unless my husband were here to help me. The truth is , nothing ever seems right.

Maybe I will feel that way the rest of my life. This morning I am going on another job interview, I don't know if I should take it. I don't know if it will fit. I have a nine-year-old, he was six when his father died. Our lives have been on a constant rollercoaster of having to make decisions on my own, I hate it. I have lost my anchor and the man who kept me stable the last 25 years. I had four children with him and our lives were normal. So I have been dating, And that ends up disastrous too. I look for someone or something to belong to, I need an identity it seems. I have lost myself when I lost my husband. So I attach myself right away and go out of my way, to please the new person, and then I crash and I can't handle the relationship any longer. Not to mention that my son doesn't seem to get along with any of the men I date. This is a serious issue because I long for companionship and affection, but the guys I am dating are not widowed and do not understand my or grieving times and my son's behavior at times.

I wonder if you could discuss this subject and I could hear from other widows. Is this normal? Or is this just my personality exposing itself. I have no health insurance since my husband died so neither my son or myself has ever seen a grief counselor. if you can refer me to one I would appreciate it. I live in Rhode Island. Thanks you again for listening to me, and for your website this morning. I have had many dreams about my husband. They were mostly in the first year of my grief. He would only smile and be still, but I knew it was real and it was his spririt coming to me . I still dream of him on special occasions like our anniversary and birthdays of our children. Thank you.
Christin

Well, from my personal opinion, I can say the ONE lingering thing with me is my inability to make a decision. I do, but it takes me forever and I feel paralyzed sometimes. Jeff and I made decisions together so it's not that he did all the work, it's just I get scared about making the wrong decisions. Then, after getting ripped off from contractors, my level of trust was very low so decision-making takes me an extra long time and I'm always doubting myself.

You sound like you need companionship and then get scared. My suggestion, hold off on the relationship stuff for just a little while and focus on other things -- new hobbies, time with your son, travel, whatever makes you happy. Once you become a little more content with being independent, you won't feel the need to cling to any man that comes along. Your son is going through his own grief, having a hard time seeing you with anyone but daddy. Understand that. There's no reason your son needs to have a relationship with your boyfriends if you are only casually dating. If he does get to like one of them, and you break up, he's losing another father-figure. Wait until one is serious and then welcome your son in, but expect that it might take time.

Anyone else have something to add?

Lisa

Death's Gift

Georgia Weithe, author of "Shining Moments: Finding Hope in Facing Death," talks about death bringing gifts. At first, I have to admit, when Jeff died I didn't want to think there was a gift in any of it. But if you really think about it, there is. What was mine? Well, independence, and not in the way you think. Jeff believed in me, never stopped me from doing something I wanted to try and although I've had other boyfriends prior to when I met Jeff, they were either intimidated because I had a brain or they didn't care less about my desire to be a writer. Jeff was different. He was my support, my cheerleader. I was even told from the aide in the hospital that visited Jeff that he talked a lot about the kids and me and my career.

How is that a gift? Well, I know I can handle anything because that lives on with me. I've been through so much, but taking Jeff away made me have to stand up and realize that I can do it all because my cheerleader made me believe that. Here's Georgia's blurb for this website from her book. What's your gift?

Death’s Gift

Ten years ago death took my father, but it gave me an important gift. It showed me that we take much for granted in life, because we assume there will always be another day to pay attention to the beauty around us, or to alter or elevate the quality of our relationships with those we love. The illusion that life on earth never ends allows us to pretend we can continue as we are forever.

The gift that death has to offer is the awareness that all pleasure is finite, all beauty is transient, as well as the knowledge that we will not be here forever to work through our problems with others.

Here are ten things death taught me about how to live:

1. Live your life so you have no regrets.

2. Admit to yourself that life is fleeting and all things as we know them will come to an end; then out of the awareness of the endings, create new beginnings.

3. Begin to heal your life by making choices that allow you to control your own destiny.

4. Acknowledge the presence of those you love, and honor your spouse or partner, your children and your friends.

5. Never resort to violent acts or bring ruthless thoughts into the realm of your being.

6. Bring love into every situation and replace vengeance with peaceful, loving intentions.

7. Elevate your actions to reflect the highest principles of living; show love, respect and honor for all life.

8. Waste no energy on vanity or pride.

9. Be generous and giving and pursue the highest purpose in all you do

10. Let go of life in the sweetest way you know how.



Georgia Weithe is the author of Shining Moments: Finding Hope in Facing Death (Reflections Press, September 2008). To read excerpts, find additional resources, or to join the conversation on her blog visit, www.shiningmoments.net

Guest Blogger -- Special Dream by Luellen Hoffman

Native Americans believe that after someone dies, they come back in a dream to a family member to let the family know that they are alright.

I believe this too and this is my story.

My husband Michael was forty-three years old and never sick before he died in an accident in 1994. He was tall 6’3” with dark brown hair and eyes and handsome. He had graduated from Michigan State University in electrical engineering and was the smartest man I ever met. He was the love of my life and we were together for seventeen years.

A few days after the funeral I was sound asleep in my bedroom when Mike suddenly appeared to me. It was like I was conscious and woke-up inside my dream because I could feel his presence instantly when he entered the room and I could see him perfectly clear in the darkness and it all seemed very real and natural. He stood there at the left side of the bed looking straight at me. He did not move from where he was standing and I could tell he was happy, peaceful and he wanted to tell me something, something important, but I was too angry at him for dying so I told him with my thoughts, “to just go away,” and he immediately did. Just like that it was over, but it was very real and very intense the few seconds it lasted.

Now I wouldn’t have shared this dream with anyone if it weren’t for my sister-in-law, Diane who called me a few days later from her home in Michigan. She had taken her brother’s death very hard and was grieving very hard, but now her voice over the phone sounded excited and happy. She told me that Mike had appeared to her in a dream too.

When she told me this I knew exactly right away what she was talking about and then I thought to myself if this is happening in our family, it must be happening in other families too, only no one is talking about it. But what does this mean?

So I started researching dreams and after ten years couldn’t find anything about this type of dream. Then in 2007 I placed small ads in community papers across the nation, asking people if they ever had someone close to them die and then appear to them in a dream. Over three hundred people responded and I collected over one hundred stories about this type of dream experience. It was amazing to see the healing aspect these dreams had on people’s lives. It didn’t matter their age, race, religion or even affiliation with the person who died. At first I thought this is happening only in families, but then I found out it could also happen between friends. The dream stories that were sent to me are amazing because they are love stories and how love never dies, even if we pass on, we still carry love in our hearts and also how we are more connected to each other, our family and friends much more then we realize.

One amazing pattern I saw when reviewing all the dream stories was the one word that was said over and over again by the deceased to the dreamer, and that word was “okay”. I’m ok, or don’t worry everything will be okay. After looking up the meaning of the word “okay” in the dictionary I found that it means safe and good. We do not know where our loved ones go after they die, but from these special dreams, we do know that they are now in a place that is both safe and good.

People are having these dreams only they don’t know what they are, and therefore not talking about them, or sharing them with their family. It is a good part of the healing process and helps those who are grieving and sad.

Check out Luellen's site at www.specialdream.org

Has your spouse appeared to you in a dream? Tell us about it.

"The Long Goodbye" by Carole Jones

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After battling breast cancer and struggling through the aftermath of her husband’s tragic accident, Carole Jones emerged a survivor. Today, Carole continues to share her personal experience and faith with widows, cancer patients, and their families. She resides peacefully in Portland, Oregon, with her family.

The Long Goodbye, by Carole A. Jones is a poignant first-person account about two things many women fear the most: breast cancer and the tragic loss of a spouse. It’s a story that raises the age-old question: How does a person hold on to faith when terrible things happen, one after another?

Carole Jones gives an answer—not a simple formula or pat response—but a wisdom refined in the crucible of pain. Her story, The Long Goodbye, is a graceful memoir of her struggle with breast cancer, her husband’s tragic bicycling accident, and the saga that followed as he slowly slipped away in a persistent coma.

How Carole and her family hold on to their faith is a remarkable story, told with piercing candor, grace, and, ultimately, great joy. It is a must-read story for every woman facing cancer or life-threatening illness or for anyone who has lost a spouse.
Available online at Amazon, Target, Barnes & Noble, and IUniverse.



Carole was nice to provide an excerpt of this book for you. It's just another example of a widow who understands and did something positive after everything she's been through. She is dedicated to helping other widows understand what life is like and how you, too, are not alone.


“To Love and To Cherish”

Day after day, life was the same. Tim was either well or he was sick, but other than that, his condition didn’t change. I went to see him every day, usually twice a day, and I washed him, shaved him, combed his hair, gave him a haircut when needed, and then I sat with him. I’d tell him about the kids’ doings, read to him, but mainly I just crawled up on his bed and held his hand or put my arms around him and laid my head on his chest.

I stayed overnight in his room when he was sick. I helped the nurses change him and dress him. I marveled at how our relationship had changed. Tim had always taken care of me, and yes, I had babied him, too, like a lover would. But now, it was as if I had become his mother.

Our kids were living a dual life. They loved and missed their dad, but it had been almost a year and life had gone on. I didn’t want life to stop for them. They were young. Their whole lives were ahead of them. They seemed like well adjusted, happy kids at home, at church, with their friends. But a change would come over them as we drove up to Sunbridge. They became quiet and distant and depressed and walked down the long hallway to their dad’s room looking at the ground.

Even though Sunbridge was a nice facility, my kids still saw shocking things from time to time. I tried to come up with things for them to do with their dad. I said they could read to him or sing, and they would try, but pretty soon their voices would trail off, and they would be choked up with tears. I could relate because often as I sat with Tim and tried to talk to him, I would fight back my own tears. Most often, they would sit and read and not interact with Tim very much. I understood why. Even though they knew that their dad couldn’t help it, they felt rejected by him. He never looked at them; he never talked to them or responded to them. Rae blurted out tearfully one day, “It just doesn’t seem like my dad!”

People who stopped by to visit Tim would often tell us how much Tim had responded to them. Even though we knew that most of the time Tim’s responses were being misinterpreted, we never said anything, but that made the kids feel even worse.

“Everyone keeps saying daddy responds to them. How come he never responds to me?”
I would patiently explain that those well-meaning folks might have been mistaken. I told them, too, that everyone loved their dad and it meant a lot to them to feel like they had a special moment with him.

I finally said to them one day, “I don’t think it is good for you to visit your dad everyday.” They looked at me with shock and began to protest, “No, Mommy, we’re sorry that we’re not more happy there. It is just so sad to see him like this. We’ll act better …”

I said, “You don’t have to feel guilty about this. This is my decision, and I am doing what I think is best for you. You can visit your dad any time you want, but I want you to take a break. It looks like your dad could be like this for a real long time, but I know that he would want you to keep on living. He wants you to grow up and be happy. He knows that you love him. But you need to take a break from Sunbridge.”

The kids still visited their dad frequently, but not every day.

In May, Tim’s leave ran out and his employment with the Department of Defense ended. I was so thankful that we were given so much time to see what would happen with his condition. Things would get “interesting” financially, but I’d just had a crash course in remaining calm. Like the great missionary Hudson Taylor, I had an opportunity to see what God could do.

I sat down one night and, just for kicks, added up all the paid medical bills from the first of the year. I was stunned at the total, and completely in awe of the Lord’s provision. It reminded me of our earlier, leaner years together when Tim supported our family on Guam with just his teacher’s salary.

We always got to the end of the year with the bills paid and no debt, but we really didn’t understand how that had happened. We were both pretty good at math, but two plus two didn’t equal four in our budget. It was more like two plus two equals eight. Another of the Lord’s specialties—multiplying fish and loaves. I thanked God every single day for His faithfulness in providing for Tim and me and the kids.

I was also thankful for Tim’s wacky sense of humor, which was genetically transmitted to all three of our kids. The kids and I had been discussing our situation before prayer time one evening and we finally decided that if things got really tight, we’d just start visiting all the relatives that we’d never visited or imposed upon before!

As the months progressed, God worked on my heart. For some reason, in my heart and in my mind, the anniversary of Tim’s accident became my D-day for God. I felt that if God didn’t move by then, He wasn’t planning on moving. I had been telling Him all along that there were two possible scenarios that I would accept from Him. One was that Tim could get all better or even some better. It would be fine with me if he would just wake up enough to know us. I didn’t mind taking care of him if he was disabled for the rest of his life. I had no life to get back to once this was “all over.” Tim was my life. I loved him, probably even more than ever before, and he needed me.

The second scenario was that God would take Tim to heaven. I wouldn’t even have minded if He let me tag along! Heaven was such an attractive option at this point. There was a third scenario—that God allowed Tim to stay exactly as he was.

Thanks Carole,
Lisa

When am I going to stop feeling this way?

I got this letter the other day and thought I'd share the question that was asked of me.

"...when does it stop feeling like he's still going to come through the front door, and say it was all a misunderstanding? He worked Monday through Friday 8-5 and when 5:30 rolls around I still expect him home. I hate that feeling more than anything because then I have to remind myself he's dead."


My response, "Absolutely, I would think that he was coming back home. When he died, the baby was 2 and I remember wanting him to get up in the middle of the night, but he wasn't there. I also remember dialing work and then backing off. I would get a feeling that he was on his way home when it was time for him to be and each night it was a kick in the gut to remind myself that it wasn't happening. The feeling slowly goes away, but even now 9 years later, I've occasionally thought "What would I do if he walked in the front door???" (I think I do that when I see movies that make me wonder what that would be like.) It doesn't mean that you are in denial...it's just a stage. In my opinion, it's a stage we have to go through to get to acceptance."

Anyone else?

Another resource...

I was sent another blog as a resource and although this blog is geared more for parents who have lost children, there are other resources on it as well that you may benefit from.

Be sure to check it out (and come back here too!). I hope it helps.

http://thegriefblog.com/

Until next time, you may be young, but you're not alone.

Lisa

Those hard unexpected days...

Okay, maybe it's not so unexpected now but back-to-school is always hard for me. It's when I take a look at how big the kids got, another year gone by and how much time has passed since Jeff died.

My son is now taller than I am and heading into high school where he'll join his older sister, who is now a junior. A junior!!!!! Time to think about colleges (see my gray hair! LOL). My "baby" is now as tall as the bottom of my chin and now looks like a tween. She's going into sixth grade, which means middle school next year. Geez!

So that's my hardest time because it's time to buy new sneakers for the bigger feet, new clothes for the taller kids and perhaps meet my new children -- the ones who weren't so into makeup and clothes and suddenly are and now found the opposite sex.

So, for me it's back-to-school that brings on a few sad moments (okay, if I am being completely honest, it brings on a few happy dances too, but shhhhh....). I'll ride this wave, grab some of my favorite coffee, take the day off of work and relax. I guess I'm starting to plan for those unexpecteds now.

What's your unexpected?

lisa