A Surprise on my First Cry...Coincidence?

Only a few tears had slipped out during my first month of widowhood. Between the shock, numbness, and God's cocoon of peace I was wrapped in, I kept my explosive emotions buried. As the numbness wore off, I felt a stirring from deep within. I began to feel so much pressure inside, similar to a car's radiator that starts seething, and you must slowly let the cap off to allow the pressure to slowly escape.

My first real cry came on May 13th, the first month anniversary. I still couldn't believe it happened. I sat on the sofa beside my husband's empty recliner. My hands steadied the warm mug on the armrest. Nelson always made our Saturday morning coffee. Now, unbearable sadness clung to me as I smelled the coffee aroma. "Where are you? It's Saturday morning." I hypnotically stared at Nelson's chair.

"Get out of my room!" Jessica, my 7 yr. old, screamed at her sister. "I'll hit you!"

I looked to the ceiling, "The kids are fighting. You're not here to help anymore!"

I ran to my bedroom and threw myself on the bed. My clenched fists pounded the pillows. Tears poured out. "This isn't fair! Nelson, why did you have to die? I love you and miss you so much!" The shock wore off and reality flooded in.

Through tearful eyes I stared at eleven years of family portraits on my bedroom walls. I thrashed on the bed tossing back and forth while sobbing relentlessly. Morning turned into afternoon with no relief. Nicole, my 6 yr. old, walked in late that afternoon and leaned over my bed. "Mommy, can I get you a Tylenol?" Her innocent young face peered into my tearful eyes. "Will that make you feel better?"

Before I could answer, there was a loud crash. Nicole whipped around. A family portrait had fallen off the bedroom wall. I sat up in disbelief. "It's one of our family pictures...the four of us!" Shock, momentarily paralyzed me. Did Nelson make this happen? What were the chances this would happen on the first cry AND the first day I spent grieving in bed? What caused the picture to fall? Was it a coincidence or did Nelson and God hear my cries of anguish? I'd never felt such deep grief.

"Dear Lord, I know Nelson can't come back. I have to let him go. I need your help!"

Whether this was a mere coincidence or a sign from above, it gave me peace and comfort that Nelson was close by. There were many more occurrences in the first few months. I felt it was God's way of helping me to let go. I'd love to hear from others if you have a similar story of coincidence or sign from above to share. It gives me goose bumps when I hear them!

Denial in Grief: Catch Me if You Can!

Once the shock and numbness wore off after my husband's death, it felt like adrenaline began pumping through my body at an accelerated speed. It wasn't time to accept what happened. Nor was it time to feel the pain...because it was going to be explosive. And I wasn't sure I could handle it. So I had to run from it!

So what would make me feel good and forget my pain for a while? For some widows, it might be shopping or working. For me, it was going on road trips to visit family and friends. It had been 2 months that I had become a young widow. I HATED THAT WORD! We had lived in California prior to living in Florida so my intent was to visit my friends I hadn't seen for a few years. It started out as an innocent summer trip, cross country, from Florida to California, with my 2 daughters.

The more friends I reunited with on our trip, the more joy I felt. I quickly realized, this numbed my pain. When I began to slow down, I'd feel an ache. This made me run faster. I began to overindulge in drinking, eating, and gambling. We also drove to Las Vegas to visit family. After unlimited rum and cokes one evening, and not remembering how much money from sympathy cards I had spent on slot machines, I was running at full speed and had no intentions of slowing down.

Once we left Las Vegas, and were returning to California for one more week, I felt like I was on a Merry-Go-Round and couldn't get off. I knew I was running out of control, but I couldn't stop. If I stopped, I knew I'd feel the pain. The faster I ran, the harder it was for me to stop. I was on a high while seeing friends, eating good food, and drinking to numb any kind of pain that was trying to surface. I tried to convince myself that I could keep up the pace, and grief would never catch up.

But probably everyone knew, including me deep down, that grief would eventually catch up. It usually does. I couldn't run forever. I could only take so many trips. Money would run out. I did have to buy new clothes after summer because I gained 20 lbs.! And I didn't like the way hangovers felt. So at the end of that summer it all came to a stop. With God's help, I believe He pushed me off my ride and showed me that it was time to open my heart and grieve.