All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth...

"You'll know when it's time." No. No I won't. I'll know when it's not time, but only because I thought it was time and found out it wasn't. 

Some well meaning people have told me countless times that I would know when it is time. And maybe I will eventually. But what I am finding out is that I am learning when it is not time. But just what exactly is it that I'm supposed to know it's time for? What if I feel it's time to get rid of some of the stuff that makes this house a home. The clothes, the trinkets, the jewelry, the make-up, the other objects that hold so many memories. What if I think I'm ready only to find out, after its all gone, that I wasn't ready after all? 

I was ready to take off the wedding band one day, and then later that day I rushed to put it back on. Eventually I managed to take it off my finger and move it to a chain around my neck. But I still find my thumb searching my ring finger for that thing that gives it it's name. I try to spin the ring on my finger only to be reminded that it is no longer there. I tap my hand on a table expecting the sound of the ring striking the hard surface only to hear a different sound. Different than I have heard in the last quarter of a century. 

I was ready to pass along some items to family and had more success there. Perhaps because I know my family values those things and I can see them whenever I want. I won't ask for those things back because they aren't really gone. Like the ring that once announced to the onlooker that I was taken, they are merely residing in a different location. 

What about other things in my life? I know when it comes to dating that I am not looking for a replacement for Wanda. For similar reasons, I didn't replace Beth with anything. As I've mentioned before, Beth and Wanda have already been replaced. Everywhere they once resided grief now fills that void. What I am looking for now is to replace the grief. However grief doesn't get replaced as easily as the thing that once held the space grief now occupies.

I've spent some time with a number of people in the last six months in an attempt to find something to replace the grief. The toughest part is recognizing my feelings for what they are. Am I developing feelings for a person or am I developing feelings for something to replace the grief? I've know too many people who, in an attempt to replace grief, have acted quickly. I know a few friends that have chosen wisely but I've also know people who regretted those choices. Don't you think they thought they knew it was time?

My friends know the grief that fills my heart. That grief that pours from my eyes in a cascade down my cheeks. It happens every day. Still. And they want so much for me to not hurt. And I can admit to myself that it would be nice to not hurt. And there have been several nights lately that I have not cried myself to sleep because I had a nice day or evening that left me focusing on the good. But replacing the grief with something long lasting is a bit more difficult. The last thing I want is to anchor myself to something or someone that I will (or more importantly, they will) regret a few months down the road. 

Do you remember losing your first tooth? The adult tooth came up and pushed the other out.  Eventually it was replaced by a larger, permanent tooth that eventually fit in with other teeth as you began to lose those. But until it did there was a noticeable gap. Especially if the front two teeth, those most prominent, are gone. You look at the grin of a six year-old missing his incisors and you can't help but have an emotional response. When it comes to losing baby teeth, that emotional response from that toothless grin usually results in a smile of your own. However, when you see me and recognize the gap in my smile, in my life, the emotion is not usually marked with a smile. And, until what is supposed to grow in that spot finally shows up, I guess we will all keep our smiles to ourselves. 

So today I am just going to admit that I probably won't know when it's time for whatever it is supposed to be time for. Instead I am just going to try to recognize when it isn't time. Sound confusing? You should see it from my side of things. But then again, I pray you never have to. 

You fill me up, buttercup

Yesterday I posted about the craters created by the grief events. The image was intended to make us realize that the impact of a grief event is larger than just the impact zone. When someone we love is removed from our lives it is not just the person we lose but the many areas in our lives they touch. The resulting impact of that event creates a barren area that extends beyond ground zero. The two images I used were to show how ugly things can look until we fill that emptiness. In conversation with a friend today I began to form another thought about my crater analogy. 

When a grief event occurs it creates an area that was once filled but now lies empty. What is left is grief. And the thought that many outsiders may have is that those of us experiencing the grief are looking to replace the one we lost. Nothing could be further from the truth. The grief event replaced that person for us. In my case it was the death of a child and, later, the death of my beloved wife. Neither my daughter or my child are here on this earth anymore. Instead they are replaced by grief. Grief is what fills the spaces that they once occupied. So, as we work to right our ships we are not replacing what we lost, we are replacing what took the place of that which we lost.

My hope is that this understanding will help those of us who have experienced the grief event. I spent the first several weeks not wanting to put anything in the grief crater because I knew that nothing could replace what I've lost. I was wrong. Something had already replaced my lovely wife - grief. Grief had worked its way into every crevice that my wife once occupied in my life. Once I recognized that, I began to look for ways to replace the grief, not my spouse. 

For those of you that are observing from the outside and think that someone is moving on a little too quickly, may I recommend that you change your thinking and your praying. The person trying to move on is not replacing their loved one, they are replacing the grief. So how should you change your praying? Ah, that is the question. 

What I realized today is that we who are grieving can try too quickly fill the crater and, by doing so, may be choosing the wrong things to fill it with. We might be trying to fill it with drugs or alcohol. We may be trying to fill it with the first person that comes along. We may be trying to fill it with work or other activities. I don't know what you are choosing to use as a filler. I'm not even sure I know what I'm choosing as I cast about for an answer. 

What I believe we all, insider and outsider alike, need to be praying for is that we will fill that crater with the right things, people, and events.  We need to pray that our grief replacements are what God intended to place there. Otherwise we will be looking at even more grief as we let things take root there that are not the best for us. Then we are left with the problem and pain of uprooting the bad thereby creating a larger, uglier crater. 

I don't know what God has planned for my crater, but when He is done I can only pray that my crater looks as beautiful as He intended. Meanwhile we could all use the prayers of the outsiders as we try to discern what it is we are supposed to use to fill the craters in our lives and hearts. Now, it would appear that I may have to look at digging up some things before they take root. Thank you Jesus for revealing this to me when you did.