A Time To Dance

Today was very special.  It seemed like a pretty normal Sunday at Pickwick in the late Spring.  But somehow, for me, things are beginning to change.  You have probably sensed it in my postings of late.  Shelley described it as moving from mourning to healing.  I think she may be correct.  I pray so.
Not long ago I wrote about being able to remove my wedding ring.  I believe that was a watershed event in my life after Bonnie.  For some reason, it did signify the ability to move on.

A new friend of mine and I were e-mailing this past week.  We have both come through some difficult times in our lives.  One similarity I noted was that we both had a choice.  We could have turned away from God, saying that HE caused our pain, that He allowed it, that He was....well you get that picture.  Unfortunately, many people find that as their alternative.  They reject Him.

OR, we could have turned to Him, clung to Him, depended upon Him.  That was our chosen alternative.  I wrote that I believed we made God smile when we did that and that Satan frowned.  That is just fine with me.  This was not easy for either of us.  It is not the path of least resistance.  But it is the path that He chooses for us.  He will get us down it if we depend upon Him.

Our little Sunday School class is starting to study Ecclesiastes next Sunday.  As our teacher announced that, I turned to it in my bible and my eyes fell on Ecclesiastes 3:4 "a time to mourn and a time to dance,"  Next to it, in the margin, some time ago I'd written "Why in that order?".

I'll come back to the "why in that order" later, but I want to explain why this was so profound to me today.

I've not been able to even listen to music for 7 months.  It was just too painful.  I was driving some 700 miles to Sandusky Ohio last week.  As I drove I was, well, bored. Months before I'd removed all the CDs from Bonnie's little Jeep Patriot that I was driving.  But, being bored, I punched a few buttons.  The CD player came online.  There was a CD left in it!!!  And, the CD was a compilation of songs Shelley and Ben had used at their wedding reception.  The song that played was the one I'd chosen for Shelley and me to dance to...."I hope you dance". 

I remember hearing it months before and turning off.  It was too painful to listen to.  That day, last week however, because of some recent events, including my ability to remove my wedding band, I was able to listen to the words of that song.  They are beautiful and moving.  Every verse is.  Bonnie and I lived our lives that way.  We prayed that Shelley could/would also.  Now, I was being challenged to do so again.   For the past seven months I'd experienced the exact opposite of everything the song had hoped for.

Now, however,  I'm beginning to feel the ability - or at least the desire - to "dance" again.

The song.  The verses.  Events.  God.  That is why we should never turn away from Him when we are experiencing the difficult times of this world.  Cling to Him.  Lean on Him.  Keep your eyes on Him. 

There is a time for mourning. We will all experience it sooner or later.  But, there is a time to dance as well.  Perhaps, no definitely, Ecclesiastes has it in the right order.  A time to mourn comes before a time to dance.  In that order the dance is far more meaningful.  It is a dance given to you by our Lord Himself. 

I am looking forward to once again dancing.  I do not know what form the dance will be.  But, I am convinced now that there is a dance for me.

Ecclesiastes says that there is.  It comes after a time for mourning. 

Acceptance, weakness, strength

My last post was a difficult one to write.  It probably marked a milestone in my grief, but this morning, it does not feel so much like that. 

Today, I am admitting to weakness.  Our little church down the lane has a singing group in for a special service.  I've chosen to stay home, write this new entry, and do my own bible study.  You see, hymns, especially the old ones, are extremely difficult for me...even now.  Music touches our hearts and mine is still far too sensitive.  The last time we had a musical group at our church saw me in crisis.  I chose to avoid it this morning and admit weakness.  Perhaps my removing the ring was acceptance, but it was not a statement that my heart is healed.

On a previous post I mentioned that one thing taking my time was the establishment of a foundation for the protection, renewal, and maintenance of our cemetery.  That is proceeding, although slowly.  The cemetery itself looks much better already.  Thanks to a local resident, as well as the members of the church, the underbrush along the edges of the cemetery has been cleared.  That made a tremendous difference in showing the beauty of the 2.4 acre hillside.  In addition, the county has placed white gravel up to the entrance of the cemetery and we will continue that into the grounds.  What an improvement that will be over the muddy track that once brought us into the cemetery. 

I'm still recruiting board members and seeking an attorney to represent us in the legal aspects of incorporating and obtaining legal title.  So, progress is being made.  There will be opportunities for each of you to support our efforts if you choose to do so and I will keep you updated on our progress.  Please be praying for this to proceed in a way that 'Honors God and remembers our loved ones'...which is the mission statement for the foundation.

Under the heading of keeping busy to stay relatively sane...those of you who know me well, know that boats are my weakness.  For some it is cars.  For some it is planes, or horses or whatever.  For me...it is boats.  I've had in my 'bucket list' the acquisition of a large boat with which to cruise the nation's rivers and perhaps the intracoastal waterway.  This week I am going to Sandusky Ohio to inspect a Trawler.  The owner has accepted my offer contingent upon my inspection, a survey and sea trial.

If all goes well, I will have it trucked back to Pickwick Lake this summer and begin the process of getting acquainted with her.   I am hoping this will be a pleasant adventure, a way to meet interesting people and another way to keep my mind, hands and heart occupied this summer.  Perhaps the winter will be spent aboard her in a warm climate!!!

Bonnie, and her absence from my physical life, is still the last thing of which I think at night and the first thought I have each morning.  Acceptance that this is real?....perhaps.  Adapting to it?....maybe.   Healing?....keeping an open mind on that.  Walking and breathing?....that is what she expects....that is what HE is helping me to do.  I am depending upon HIM to carry me....but isn't that what He expects/wants from us anyway?  Perhaps that is even why certain things happen in our lives....to make us realize we are not in control nor able to weather certain storms.  Jesus is in control and we can weather certain storms ONLY with His help.  Then, and only then, do we realize we should not be afraid.  Not because we are strong...but because HE is.

The Ring

Almost forty two years ago Bonnie gave me a simple white gold wedding band.  I remember walking down the streets of Gatlinburg, on our honeymoon, twisting that band back and forth, trying to get used to it being on my hand.  Sometime, several years ago, Bonnie gave me a yellow gold band to wear because my watch and glasses were yellow gold.  I tried that for awhile, but gave up the fashion statement for her original, white gold band.  That was the one that was special to me.  It always will be.

This week, I did something I did not plan to ever do in my life on this earth.  I took that band off my hand.  It is now sitting on a crystal ring holder in a drawer.  My heart aches as I type this.  I have tears in my eyes as I remember when she slipped that ring onto my finger those many years ago.

The only person I've told, until now, about taking that ring off is my friend Glenn.  I don't know how it came up but it was during a telephone conversation.  Of course, I had difficulty in saying the things to him that I just typed.  In his gentle way, he asked my why I felt I needed to remove it.  He was not being judgemental.  He just wanted to know what brought me to that decision.

I'd been thinking about it for awhile.  I've come to believe it was something similar to taking that first ride in the SeaRay this spring, although on a much deeper level.  There are things that must be faced and sooner or later they will be.  These are things that tear at my heart strings, but grow more difficult with time. 

Continuing to wear the ring, as much as I love it and what it represents, was somehow beginning to feel like denial.  Bonnie is no longer physically here on this earth.  She is experiencing a new and wonderful life.  I am no longer physically married to Bonnie although the love will remain as long as my heart beats.  I have to face that.  She would want me to.  We'd even talked about that over the last couple of years.  We were close enough that we could do that.

So, with the greatest of respect, love and tenderness, I removed a symbol that had been on my hand for almost 42 years.   I carefully placed it in a drawer on a ring holder that was once Bonnie's.  That seemed somehow appropriate.  It had been hers, after all, as was I. 

That symbol still shows on my hand.  The finger is indented where it was.  My finger is also as white as snow where the ring once surrounded my finger.  Those too will fade with time.  My memories of, and love for, Bonnie will not.

She was given to me by God and it is to God that she has gone.  That is as it should be.  I must live my life without her.  I am facing that and accepting that.  The removal of 'the ring' was one more step toward that end.

The withered hand

It was bound to happen and it did.

The activity from last week came to an end on Sunday as the guys headed home to be with their wives on Mother's Day.  This cabin became extremely quiet and lonely.  It screamed at me it was so quiet.  One of my friends, and a "club member", told me to steel myself for Sunday.  It was going to be a deep and difficult time.  She was right.

Not only were the guys gone, it was Mother's Day....the first Mother's Day without Bonnie.  I called Shelley, knowing she was going to have a difficult day as well.  The dark edges, as I call them, were bound to creep in on her also.  This was the first time she had ever experienced a Mother's Day without her Mom.  How sad.

To have loved someone so exceptional was a blessing beyond description.  To lose that loved one is as difficult as the blessing was wonderful.  Shelley had a mother beyond compare.  They continued to talk almost daily and those conversations brought joy to them both...and to me.  The phone is silent now...as silent as this cabin.

I feel it as a void.  There is just nothing that can replace the presence of a woman like Bonnie.

I spent the day yesterday putting the house back in order.  Nine guys can make a big mess.  Don't get me wrong though.  The "mess" was more than worth it.  For those few days, I felt more 'normal' than I have for quite some time.  I want them to know how much I appreciate their being here and how much I appreciate their wives letting them come on Mother's Day Weekend.  I know each of their wives and I can guarantee you that each one is a very special lady and mother.

Then, today, I had to face medical bills.  It is not that the bills are large or that I cannot pay them if it is ruled that I owe them.  It is that they are still coming in or being reviewed.  These reviews force me to relive the days that were the worst.  They force me to recall the details I am trying so hard to forget.  Time has begun to fade them, but the medical reviews force me to remember them exactly as they were.

After a couple of hours on the phone regarding two of the last claims, I felt I needed to write this entry.  It is therapeutic for me.  Perhaps it will be helpful to someone else as well.  That is what I hope each time I write.

This morning I was reading "At His Feet"....catching up on the devotionals that had been missed during the frenzy of the past few days.  Luke 6:10 caught my attention..."Stretch out your hand."  That devotional closed with this statement...  "Own up to your withered hand, and let His strength be demonstrated in your weakness.  It's the only way He'll show an unbelieving world the power of God." 

I hope that is what I am doing with this "blog".  This is my withered hand....my weakness....being shown to you, being offered to Him.  The extent to which I get through this time will be His strength at work, not mine.  The 'coincidences' that occur which lift this weight are His miracles, not just random acts.  I am depending upon Him because I cannot imagine being able to continue to breathe, let alone survive, by my own withered hand.

"The Boys of the Beaver Bunch" are here.  They began arriving at the cabin on Pickwick Lake Thursday evening.  The noise of guys having fun has not ceased for long except for sleeping.  We are, what we call generation one and generation two of the Beaver Bunch...friends for over 25 years, and their sons/sons-in-law.  There are nine of us here today.

Yesterday was our first day of fishing.  The day began with us launching four bass boats.  We congregated here at my dock prior to starting the fishing. 

The morning turned into a great fishing trip.  We'd planned on having a fish fry that night so everyeone wanted to catch enough fish for that.  We ended up with far more fish than we needed.  About half were returned to the water.  We cleaned over forty fish.  Everybody caught their share.

When we returned to the dock, the bragging and lying began...of course.  There was an abundance of laughter and fun.  As this was going on, the "dark edges" as I call them, closed in on me for awhile. 

Bonnie was always the first of the ladies to come to the dock when 'the boys' returned from fishing.  She delighted in hearing the stories, bragging, lying, trash talk that always occurred. 

As yesterday's antics were unfolding, I wanted to hear her laughing at the fun as she always did.  I longed to see her cut her eyes at me and wink, knowing these times were blessings beyond compare.  We could never have had enough of these days, but we certainly enjoyed the ones we had.  The times when the Beaver Bunch got together were some of our fondest shared memories. 
 

Adventures I

My friend Darrell is here from Texas. He and I shared an adventure yesterday. There will be more adventures to share as 8 more friends arrive today.  But for now, I want to share yesterday's adventure.

 

 

Darrell can't find parts for his new/old 1956 Chevy Pickup around Texas. I figured there had to be some old junk yards around here....it is, after all, rural Alabama. We started calling. Nothing. All the good ones were gone. (Sounds like guys, huh?)

Anyway, I happened to remember this big old truck sitting on the side of the road on hwy 72 with a sign painted on it and an arrow pointing the way to "Affordable Auto Parts". I actually found it on the Internet and Darrell called. Yep, a voice said said, they have four trucks in the 1956-58 range. "Sure they do" we thought. But, we took off.....Darrell, Hobo and I....in Bonnie's little Jeep Patriot (2WD) . (More on that later).

GPS blazing our way....I thought I knew where we were going, but you need to be safe. We pulled into this gravel 'driveway' that had a little yellow sign that said.....you guessed it "Affordable Auto Parts". This dirt track meandered back into the woods. We were getting close.

We were able to make it up the driveway...carefully...it is a 2 wheel drive after all...and only sits about 3" off the ground. (It was then I realized I should have brought my 4WD Jeep.) Then, there were junk cars everywhere and a shop down the "holler" with four guys in it. Three sitting and one on the phone. We approached the shop....I, two steps behind Darrell....this was his adventure after all.

He said he'd called earlier about a 1956 Chevy Pickup. The guy on the phone pointed to one of the guys sitting down. UH OH.

This guy was about 5'6", hadn't shaved in three weeks, had a hat out of some scary movie, and was sporting about 6 teeth. (Truly). The unlikely thing was that he spoke fluently...in English....intelligibly and with a sense of humor and a twinkle in his eye. He said "Yes, lets go see the trucks" and walked away. We went to the little Jeep and he said, "Can we three fit in"? I said "Sure...Hobo won't bite unless you bite first" and we all jumped in.

Out the drive, down the road and into another "driveway". Well, sort of a drive. It had ruts in it that would challenge our Rhino 4X4 much less the little Patriot. We banged bottom several times and I carefully avoided the Grand Canyon on the left side of the driveway....but the little Jeep bravely made it into the woods....bouncing and jiggling past cars that I once could have owned....from 1949 Fords to 1972 Chevy Novas. Then, we came to a spot where even the little Jeep had to stop.

We walked. I got Hobo out and he walked on a leash with us through poison ivy, water holes, and underbrush past even older cars, finally arriving at "the trucks". (He has now had a bath, as have I)

Believe it or not, the trucks were exactly what our guide said they would be. Darrell found the parts he needed for much less than any Internet parts he'd found. Darrell and our guide had to pull the parts, but with the guide's help, Darrell got exactly what he needed.

These are the type of silly, crazy, wonderful, memories our "Beaver Bunch" friends have accumulated for over 25 years. Bonnie and I met these special, unique people when we lived in Wichita Kansas for two years. We never let them go. They won't let me go now, even though they, thankfully, are not able to fully appreciate the loss of a spouse of 40+ years. They are trying and that I appreciate.

Sure, the dark edges crept back in as we drove home. I wanted to tell Bonnie our story so badly when I walked in the door I could scream!!!! She delighted in listening to the crazy antics of her boys. We were always doing something like this. It was so very frustrating that she wasn't here to tell her. I pray that heaven let's its occupants share vicariously the experiences of their loved ones left behind.

But, I also wanted to tell this silly story to you. Just to let you know that even in the depths of this horrible grief, there are times of fun, if you make yourself allow them to happen. Not joy, perhaps, but fun....smiles....even laughter. From a back woods guy with few teeth and a funny hat, came a sense of humor and an ability to push the dark edges back, if only for awhile.

I wish I could make all the grief of those who have lost loved ones disappear...along with mine. I can't. You can't. But maybe....just maybe we can allow others, without even knowing it, to push the darkness away for a little while.

Does God place people in our paths to lighten the load? I believe he does. From a park in downtown Nashville to the backwoods of rural Alabama there are opportunities for that to happen....if only for a little while.

The Boundary Of Heaven

I am in Birmingham tonight with 'the kids'...Lexi, Shelley and Ben, having driven down this morning.  This drive was unlike any other I've made here.  I drove through several areas on the way here that were just destroyed, devastated, eliminated by the tornadoes of two days ago. 

As I drove I was first struck, as we all are, by the physical destruction to homes, offices, factories and trees.  For many miles I drove through areas that were obviously still without electricity and probably would be for quite some time.  Then, it hit me.....the true devastation was not the physical things that were gone.  These were but symptoms of families in grief.  There were people in mourning, trying to come to grips with loved ones being gone and with whom they had not even had the chance to say goodbye.  In some cases, they were literally ripped from them.

How difficult was my parting with Bonnie?  How much more so theirs.  While we did not know our parting was coming, we at least had the time to fight together, to talk together.  We had the chance to tell one another that we loved one another, which we did more in the last two weeks of October 2010 than in any other period of our lives.  How tragic that the victims of these tornadoes did not have that opportunity.

Tomorrow marks six months since Bonnie died.  Tonight as I opened this web page, her picture stared at me.  It captured me.  Her eyes would not let me go.  I stared back at her picture for many minutes before I began to type.  Could it have been only six months?  Could it have actually been that long?  As I have said before, time becomes elastic in grief.  Her picture reminded me that it has been 1/2 year since we were together.  Only that long?  It seems like ages.  On the other hand, it still seems like yesterday.......


I wrote the above on the sixth month anniversary of Bonnie's passing...April 30, 2011.  I did not post it.  I have yet to understand why.  I guess it just wasn't finished.....

When we walk through the valley of the shadow of death with loved ones, we come away very different....at least I have.  A few years ago if I'd driven through storm-ravaged neighborhoods, I might not have even thought about the families in mourning.  I would have seen the things I saw and yet not felt what I felt. 

This time I realized there will be babies growing up without fathers or mothers or the sister or brother they won't know.  There are husbands walking to funerals alone....or wives, now by themselves....fathers or mothers trying to figure out how to raise children on their own while grieving for their own loss, or fathers and mothers grieving over the loss of a son or daughter.  The pain of human loss was what struck me last week.

When we've walked that walk, when we've been through that valley, we feel for others who are in it now.  It hurts us more than it once did. 

Perhaps that is a good thing.  Perhaps that is the humbling aspect of grief....you realize you cannot get through this on your own and you pray for others in the same situation.  You pray that they have the faith and the knowledge that their loved ones knew Jesus.  You pray that their grief knows the boundary of heaven....that they know their loved one is in the arms of Jesus now and will be there throughout eternity.  No pain, no sorrow...just the glory of God surrounding them.

That is how I've gotten through these past six months.  That is what I pray for those whose lives were shattered last week.....that their grief knows the boundary of Heaven.