I'm diving in

I have had a number of people speak to me and acknowledge how difficult this week will be for me. And I do appreciate the fact that they have recognized how difficult Christmas week can be on one who who must spend it alone. Having a spouse whose birthday is Christmas week makes it even more difficult. The most difficult thing is dealing with the emotions leading up to the actual event. 

When we lost our daughter my wife and I dreaded each upcoming event. The first Mother's Day. The first birthday. The first Christmas. We had some very good friends who had travelled the road ahead of us who told us that the first year was tough because the anticipation hurt so bad. And the second could be even worse because you let your defenses down. Since you are probably reading this on my wife's birthday, I can tell you that, so far, the first is worse. But the second will probably be even worse. 

To say the pain is bad would be like saying the Grand Canyon is a deep ditch. And the funny thing is there are some days that you can fool yourself into thinking you are doing better than you are. 

In the mid 70's I attended a church camp. I do remember the lessons we learned and the testimonies I heard. But this past week I suddenly remembered something else. It was recreation time for my group and we were sitting poolside at the indoor pool. We had our feet dangling in the water and it was very cold. The instructor told us how to get our bodies accustomed to the water temperature. We began by tossing water from the pool on our legs. Then we tossed some in our lap. Finally we tossed some under the arms and we were ready to slip into the cold water. That was great instruction but the 12yo me reached a little too far for the cold water and slipped into the pool. The instructor looked at me and told the others, "Or, you could do that." Total immersion was not the original plan but it was evidently MY plan. 

Throughout this past week, and even in preceding weeks, I've noticed that there were days I felt like I was doing pretty good. I would think that I had gotten to the point where I could recall memories and not be rid of them all. I would stick my feet in and think that things weren't so bad. I would splash more memories onto myself in an attempt to see if I could tolerate it. And then, before I knew it, I was totally immersed and struggling for air. It seems that I was not doing as well as I had thought. 

So, how do I face the day? How is it that I can breath? How do I find the oxygen that my soul is starved for as the flood of memories overtake and overwhelm me? And how can you learn from my pain so that you don't have to experience it yourself when grief hits you? The answer is... I don't know. There is only one thing you can learn from me regarding how to handle it and that is that you're going to have to handle it. And you're going to have to handle it in your own way. Some of you will ignore it in hopes that it will just go away. Some of you will lash out at others for not understanding. Some of you will wallow in self-pity throughout the entire day. Me? I will do the manly thing. I will cry. A lot. But I will let the tears wash me. Then I will reach down and pick up the joy and peace that I know are there but often misplaced and wear them like a coat against the cold the world is trying to show me. I will show that world that I may be struck down BUT I AM NOT DESTROYED!!!