Embracing

Not long after Bill died, I met with a pastor in our church who had also lost his wife to cancer.  One of the things he asked me was if I had taken the time to really embrace the grief. He explained that when his wife passed, he took time to go to places that had been important to them. He had allowed himself to remember the good times, but he also allowed himself to really feel the pain of the loss. At the time, I understood how that kind of exercise could help get some closure/ healing, but I also didn’t think that as a now “single” (I hate that word) mother of three small children, it would be feasible for me to do with any intentionality.  How was I supposed to care for these precious girls, juggle all the estate stuff, and try to embrace grief? To be honest, at the time, the idea kind of made me mad. It seemed like a luxury I couldn’t afford. But as time has passed, and as I’ve slowly been able to get some of the “businessy” things off my plate, I have found a little bit of time to begin the process of embracing the heartache.

A few weeks ago, one of my best friends (a sister, really) celebrated her birthday in Richmond. I drove down and we went spent time with her amazing husband and boys, had lots of girl time, and even went to a concert. She had asked me if I wanted to go to church with them on Sunday, and (of course) said, “yes.” It didn’t dawn on me until later that I hadn’t set foot in the church since the day Bill and I had been married. You see,  I didn’t grow up in a church. I went on and off with various friends and family when I was a kid, but this church, Bon Air Baptist, was the first church that I really called “home.” So even though I had already moved to NOVA by the time we were planning our wedding, I really wanted to be married at Bon Air. So once we were married, I never really had the occasion to go back.

I could feel myself letting the memories of our wedding day flood over me as I walked into the building. Sitting in the limo with my bridesmaids waiting to go in. Getting ready. Hearing the music and walking towards my smiling groom (watching to see if the “wedding butt pinch” was happening between the groomsmen- a time honored tradition with all of Bill’s closest friends). I felt myself getting upset, but was thankfully distracted by one of the kids.  We walked into the building which looks much different than it did the day we got married (again, I was thankful). The service we went to was actually in a different part of the church that day, but my friend made sure that we had time should I want to go into the sanctuary. I had composed myself (or so I thought) and told her that, yes, I did want to go in. Almost as soon as we walked in there was someone there who wanted to meet me (Bon Air supported us in more ways than I could count the past two years). We went over and I was introduced, but I couldn’t stop turning away to look at the front of the church where Bill and I had exchanged our vows. Trying to remember all of that part of the day. All the hopes and dreams we had. All the love and excitement. My friend’s husband caught my eye, and then everything inside me burst. I basically had to run out because I couldn’t hold back the sobs. I’m sure I looked like quite a spectacle, but I’m ok with that. I think that’s what my pastor meant by embracing the grief. It was horrible and awful, but also sweet and wonderful to be in the place where Bill and I joined our lives together.

Since that day I’ve had two other opportunities, not nearly as emotional, to go back and visit special places to us. We were at the beach this week, and I realized that we were right near where Bill and I used to go with my aunt and uncle every year. As the girls and I were driving home I took them by the house and was able to share some of the fun memories that Bill and I had there.

And then there was today. Today we went sunflower picking with some friends. I wasn’t sure I would be able to do it, but the girls seems excited about it, so we went. For those of you who followed Bill’s journey, you know that we went sunflower picking as a family last year. It was the first and last family outing he was able to do. It wasn’t an easy day, simply because he and I were still trying to figure out how to maneuver him around in his wheelchair, but once we did, the day was great. We were so excited to have Bill with us. Finally. Finally. He was home. He was cancer-free (we thought). We were figuring out the wheelchair, and we were doing something TOGETHER as a complete family.

So today, like I said, I wasn’t sure I could do it. But I’m glad I did. We went with some good friends, and the girls had a great time. The field was in a different spot this year, so that helped me a little bit. I will say when we got in the car, I was really surprised that Leah talked about how hard it was for her to see other little girls there with their daddies. She said she had fun with Daddy last year and that she missed him so much. And that she when she dies (a LONG time from now, she added) she can’t wait to see him.

Those of you who know Leah know that she doesn’t often talk about Bill, so this was definitely a big step. And there’s a part of me that wonders if this wasn’t maybe her trying to embrace the grief in her own 6 year old way.

ZoZo said she picked this flower especially for Daddy

Tomorrow starts a new chapter for us. The first day of school without Bill. I’d appreciate your prayers for the girls and for me as we continue to work through all of this. As we continue to miss and love Bill, but as we continue to try to find our new life together as a family of four. Thanks, friends.