New Awakening in Grief - New Friends

Once I accepted being a widow and life would never be the same, I knew challenges were on the horizon. I was focused on my loss for over a year, feeling as if I was in a thick fog, and could only see a few feet in front of me. Now the fog was lifting and I could see different scenery. One of my first experiences was making new friends.

Lisa and her family moved in across the street from us. When I told her my widowed stories, she empathized with my loss. When I spoke about Nelson to my other friends that were grieving him also, I felt his absence.With Lisa, she just listened to me and felt sorry that I was a widow.

New friendships began to feel good. It signified my life as an individual and brought more independence to my life. I couldn't rely on Nelson to keep the conversation going. Besides, Nelson had been the life of the party. My new friends never experienced that so it was easier not to have to fill those shoes.

Lisa thought I should be dating since it had been over a year. I didn't feel ready for dates but I did contemplate male friendship. Was that possible? Nelson was my best friend, so I never needed any other male friends. Of course, my girlfriends' husbands were my friends, but I wouldn't call them up on the phone to chat.

I was still content with just my girlfriends. My social life increased as I accepted more get togethers with new and old friends. This was a huge step. The first year of widowhood I preferred to be around familiar friends in small gatherings. Now, as God placed new people in my life, I saw the value in new friends.

Having new friends, meant new adventures. It was a way to keep moving through grief. God brought me new friends for different reasons. My new friend Lisa had an agenda. She did not want me to remain single. Read more next week when Lisa talks me into meeting my first male friend. Do other widows have friends like this?

Getting Back on the Grief Track

As though waking up with a hangover from a four-week binge, embarrassment swept through me realizing how much I had neglected my daughters. My daughter's broken arm because of my negligence, proved the only way I'd wake up and snap out of the harmful habits that had controlled me. Now, I sat silently in the emergency waiting room like a child anticipating her father's punishment. "I know, God, that you're in control of the outcome. I can't even pray. The way I behaved this past month, why would you even listen to me?" I was living on instant gratifications. As much as I regretted the consequence, this wake-up call was needed to throw me off the destructive ride I was on.

I was going on four months of being a widow. The numbness was beginning to wear off. I didn't want the pain to surface so I did it my way. I ran from it as long as I could. I ran faster and faster until my world crashed! Like being thrown from a Merry-Go-Round ride, I now sat on the ground stunned. My world was still spinning and I sat waiting for my equilibrium to return. I had to pick myself up and make a decision of what to do next.

So what were my options? I very well could have got back on my ride. Picking a drink up, or a couple, would have helped ease the pain and cover up some embarrassment. But I couldn't do this to my daughters anymore. Here they were without a father, and were basically without a mother for the past 4 months. I had to find it within me to get a grip. But I couldn't do it on my own. I needed God's help and I needed to surrender to His will. I knew that deep down life would go a lot smoother and easier if I could trust God with my whole heart. He'd help me get back on track. And it was time to grieve.

I surrender, God. I'm ready to work through grief. I trust that you'll take care of me and my family.

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28)

This was a promise I made to my children. They needed at least a mother to be there for them. It wasn't just about ME! I had sacrifices to make and was determined that all three of us had to survive grief.

SHOCK! Safe in God's Cocoon

I glanced up toward the hospital ceiling, "Can you see me? Do you know that you died? Are you hovering over me, or did you go towards the light?"

I believed my husband's death marked a time to rejoice. I felt that we'd all be in heaven one day and see our family and friends again. Why should we cry? What's so sad about death? My only sadness was for my fatherless children.

As I settled in for the first night as a widow, I lay staring at the ceiling. "Nelson, where are you? Can you hear me? I wish I'd die, too, so we could go to heaven together." My thoughts raced back and forth all night between imagining my husband's adventure to heaven and planning his memorial service. The joy I felt came from knowing he no longer lived in pain but in eternal peace. I kept thinking, "How cool is that! Isn't that where we all hope to be one day if we're Christians?"

I tried to stay in this spiritual realm for as long as possible. I felt happy, safe, and peaceful. Besides, it looked so dreadful how family and friends were mourning. I wanted to stay in my happy place and be happy for my husband. Because of my faith, I knew that he was ok. I realized that my family and friends needed to grieve in their own ways, even if I didn't understand. Probably many of them couldn't comprehend God's cocoon I was living in that sheltered me from the pain.

"Cindy, I've watched you today," said Fran, a friend from church. "You're a tremendous witness for God. I see how He's filled you with strength and peace. I noticed how you shared your faith, hope and beliefs to others."

For a month, God did fill me with His strength and peace. I could not have done it on my own. I only wished I could have stayed in His cocoon forever!