I've been struggling with how to get this website back up running and on fire. Today is the day the spark has taken hold.
Nineteen years ago, within the hour, my life began to turn upside down in a very public place. No one around me noticed.
I am declaring this day to be the first annual . . .
Be Kind to Everyone You Encounter Day . . . For you know not what they are living.
My husband had a pain crash the day before, one he couldn't "bounce back" from. The next morning I called his doctor to ask if it was time to call in hospice.
I was at the grocery store, in the checkout line, during rush hour, when the doctor returned my call. I expected his response, but it was a dead-center gut punch nonetheless.
I had always tried to be kind to others, but this provided an entirely new lens. It was magnified a few months later when I was back in that same grocery store checkout line a day or so after my husband died. No one knew I was a walking-wounded, brand new widow.
We have absolutely no idea with what anyone else is living. If we did, I am sure we would be more kind to them.
This is just the beginning!!!
I am declaring this day to be the first annual . . .
Be Kind to Everyone You Encounter Day . . . For you know not what they are living.
My husband had a pain crash the day before, one he couldn't "bounce back" from. The next morning I called his doctor to ask if it was time to call in hospice.
I was at the grocery store, in the checkout line, during rush hour, when the doctor returned my call. I expected his response, but it was a dead-center gut punch nonetheless.
I had always tried to be kind to others, but this provided an entirely new lens. It was magnified a few months later when I was back in that same grocery store checkout line a day or so after my husband died. No one knew I was a walking-wounded, brand new widow.
We have absolutely no idea with what anyone else is living. If we did, I am sure we would be more kind to them.
This is just the beginning!!!
Every day is an important day to remember our family members and friends who have lost a husband or wife, but that's unrealistic and beyond anyone's scope. So, we have this special day to remind us to stay in touch with them and to remind them we love and/or care about them. To also remind them we remember the one they've lost. Oh, how important that is!
Because I can't pull words together today, here are some wonderful words from The Hope for Widows Foundation blog on this date back in 2020.
"Today on National Widow’s Day, do every widow you know a special favor. Talk about their dead spouse. Speak their name. As a widow one of the most painful things is to the think that others have forgotten your late spouse. Remember, that our lives were forever changed in a single moment. Our life as we knew it ended when our spouse died. The future we had planned vanished, never to happen. Our present became one of basic survival. We no longer felt whole, complete. A part of us died in that moment. And our loss should not and cannot be ignored. Our loss shaped us into who we are now. Someone new, someone who has lived in darkness and fought their way back to the light.
"Acknowledge our loss. Don’t ignore it, change the subject, or refuse to speak their name. These actions are hurtful, they make us feel alone. Like an outcast. Today of all days, honor a widow. Remember their life before death. Speak their spouse’s name. Honor a love so deep that even death cannot end it. "
As we move further into this blog, and the coming resources, it's abundantly important to let you know where I stand on grief. After all, it's the foundation of why we are here.
* All grief is valid.
* All grief should be acknowledged.
* All grief should be respected.
* Grief, in all of its forms, should not be scaled or compared against someone else's - by any measure.
* All grief should be faced and worked through.
All of that said, this blog isn't here to say, "Your grief doesn't count compared to mine." Not in any way.
This blog is here to say some grief is beyond any perception, or expectation, or experience we may have. It's here to share what I've learned so you might better understand the people you care about who are grieving in an exceptional manner, a manner you may not understand.
Or, maybe it's you who are grieving, and you don't understand!
I've been there! I am there, though in a more settled way that I once was.
Grief is survivable. We can even thrive again with our old friend, Grief.
Let's link arms in true support of those we care about!
Marsha
Sixteen years ago I was just weeks into widowhood. Such a massive shift between then and now!
Back then I was in the utter depths of grief and trying to find a way to keep us functioning and moving forward to whatever was ahead of us without our husband and dad.
It was the Christmas season, obviously. It didn't dawn on me my husband’s paycheck would be less because of his death date. Thankfully, his co-workers made sure we would have a good Christmas.
I remember the most epic, all-consuming, terrifying meltdown of all time. I don't remember what might have triggered it, but remember how it felt. The boys came running - terrified. They were so young still. I could barely catch a breath between sobs much less let them know I was okay, that I just had to get the grief out. Both boys held me while I cried and cried, and cried.
Note to those who are afraid tears will never stop if they let them flow: There will be a break. That initial cry IS limited. It won't last forever. And, somehow, you will get enough air not to suffocate no matter how fast and hard the sobs come. You will be utterly exhausted. You should definitely rehydrate! And, you should give yourself grace in all of it.
Gosh! Everything was so hard then.
Grief and peace slowly, almost imperceptibly, intertwine.
Here I am sixteen years later.
I'm glad I survived the . worst . grief, a grief not even imaginable. I can function more normally again - cancer treatment repercussions notwithstanding.
All of the thoughts and words on grief and loss written then and since are finally coming together on the website, though it is foundational until after the holidays. In time there will be free resources, videos, loads of blog posts, and maybe even a course or two. And eventually that book!
And, in spite of another hard year with too much death, we are having our first full blown Christmas since Mom died five years ago!!!
My husband's stocking is still hanging among the rest. It always will be.
Marsha
Christmas is a week away. A friend shared a post on Facebook this morning. I loved the message that was shared. In a nutshell, Jesus’ stepping down from Heaven wasn’t at all about giving us a reason to celebrate. “Jesus stepped down to pursue the broken and the hurting and the lost.”
That’s us, widowed friends and friends of widows. It’s a lot of other people, too, for sure. But, we can sure dig into what this young lady, Cassie, is sharing from her heart and her hurt.
It is perfectly okay if our grief overwhelms our attempts to, or even our desire to, celebrate in the usual holiday ways. It’s even okay if our grief leaks out, or roars out, of nowhere in the middle of a celebration. Hopefully we are with the ones we love and who love us if and when that happens. Either way, people need to understand our reality, one they may well live themselves someday. If we don’t let them see the reality, if we don’t teach them, they’ll be as lost as we were - and maybe still are.
Psalm 34:18 tells us the Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. How much more tangible could He be than to take on human form and walk among us?
We need to meet widows and others who are grieving where they are. It’s not incumbent upon us to “fix” them or to make them celebrate with us at our parties, at parades, at the ballet, or anywhere else, even at church. We cannot fix them. We cannot take their hurt away.
We CAN meet them where they are. We can invite and gently encourage them to join us. Just know, without a sliver of doubt, their grief will be coming with them. Please know that it is impossible to escape the grip of profound and traumatic grief. It has to loosen its grip on us in its own time, even at Christmas.
We can sit with them if they need to not celebrate. We can listen to them. We can demonstrate our care in bringing them cookies or a meal if they don’t want to celebrate. We can see if there are any little “honey do’s” that need to be taken care of.
Think of ways you show, or have been shown, care while you were sick or recovering from surgery. Translate that to your grieving friend who may or may not feel like celebrating the season now or in the weeks to come as we move through Christmas and New Year’s.
If you'd like to read Cassie's post, you can find it here over on Facebook.
Marsha
