Last week marked the five-year anniversary of my husband’s death.
How can that possibly be?
Wasn’t it just yesterday morning he brought me coffee in bed, and yesterday afternoon we argued about dirty dishes in the sink? Wasn’t it last night he gently scratched my head until I fell asleep, and I woke to him snoring beside me?
If you’ve read along with me these past few years, you’ve probably noticed my grief slowly change. I can think of Neil now without my heart feeling like a wet dishrag being squeezed and twisted. I can remember the good times without tears. The rose-colored glasses of memory have slowly returned to clear lenses that show our life together wasn’t perfect. Even so, not a day goes by when I don’t miss him.
What’s my advice to the Colleen of five years ago? Here are my thoughts:
Oh, sweet girl, you will be OK. You will one day stop crying and you will find joy in life’s moments. Neil might not be in the house but he is in your heart. He is part of who you are, and part of your daughters. You will see his smile in Jackie’s face and hear his wit in Jordan’s conversation; you will feel his sense of humor in Gina’s jokes. Don’t rush through the pain. It will go away slowly but you must honor it to survive it. You are surrounded by people who love you – being married isn’t the only way to experience love in your life. And God is with you on even the darkest, saddest, loneliest day. If you pay attention, He will remind you – in a warm breeze on your face, a singing cardinal in the yard, or the cat purring on your lap.
Yes, younger Colleen: Neil is dead, but he’s not gone; you will smile and find peace; and God is always holding your hand.
This goes for all of you, too, my dear readers, wherever you are in your grief journey.
You will be OK, and God is with you through it all.
My prayer is that you believe it.
Thank you, Colleen, for reminding us how blest we are to have the Holy Spirit with us on our journey, moment by moment, step by step, breath by breath.
Helen, you are one of the people who inspire me. Thank you for reading.
Thinking of you and sending prayers and hugs.
Thank you, Melissa. I’ll take them!
Neil was a friend. A true friend, and it was my honor to call him that. Thanks for sharing this, brought back alot of good memories.
Jeff, don’t forget Neil was honored to have you as a friend, too. He really did feel that way.
Hi Colleen,
Can’t believe it’s been five years though I know you feel it each and every day. As I was reading this post, the thought came to me that you are indeed “Embracing Travail”, turning a painful experience into something that benefits others. Bless you for that! Love, Mary
Oh my gosh, Mary, I blocked out that book long ago! At the time it was too hard to fathom pain and joy in the same moment, but I get it now. Thank you for reminding me. I might just have to read it again 🙂