Moments of Comfort in Grief

There were dreams, and then there were dreams that brought me comfort. Dreams where I'd see my former husband, Nelson, and know without a doubt that he was close by. I dreamt one night that I could see what he was doing in heaven, and that he was happy, healthy, and youthful. Other times, I'd cry to God for a sign. God never let me down. Nelson would come to me in a dream and wrap his arms around me. I'd know it was him by his embrace.

These moments of comfort kept my hope for eternal life alive. As the one year anniversary of Nelson's death approached, there seemed to be more moments of final comfort along with higher anxiety levels. These moments of comfort and anxiety were magnified in my life.

About 2 months before this monumental event of completing my first year of widowhood, my youngest daughter, Nicole, would be celebrating her seventh birthday. It would be the first birthday party I'd have to throw for one of my daughters by myself. Nelson always loved throwing the girls' birthday parties but now it was all up to me.  I didn't like it one bit. But it was time to suck it up and make it a memorable day for my seven year old.

We celebrated Nicole's birthday at the bowling alley, the day before her birthday. All of Nicole's friends showed up along with many of mine and Nelson's. The presence and support of my husband's friends emphasized Nelson's absence but also brought me peace to know how much we were loved. 

The comfort came the following morning. Nicole woke up on her birthday in a daze. "Mom!" Nicole's eyes opened wide. "I had a dream of Daddy! I was surfing at the beach. A huge wave came crashing over me and then Daddy came. He wrapped his arms around me and saved me! I felt him holding me, Mommy, he really hugged me. I could feel it!" Joy burst into my heart. Nicole felt a moment of comfort, too. And what better day but her birthday!

I believed that her father could have come to her and held her even if no one else believed it was real. The dream comforted us and helped us to go on. My children had their own grief journeys they were on and deserved to have their moments of comfort, too! Do you believe that dreams in grief are real, too?

My Grief Journey: 2 Steps Forward...1 Step Back

A half a year had passed. This was a big marker in becoming a widow. But my life still seemed confusing and off balance. As I moved forward to find some sense of direction, without warning, I'd collapse in despair. Perhaps a memory was triggered from hearing a familiar song. This could cause me to instantly fall apart. Then sometimes I didn't care to move on and I just wanted to wallow in memories of my husband. I never knew if I was going to go forward or backward each day.

Since my life took a new direction, I had to reprioritize it. Every morning I read from Our Daily Bread devotional and then prayed in surrendering to God's will to feel peace in my soul. This was easier than to struggle with doing it my way. After all, my dreams were shattered six months ago. Now, all I could do was handle one day at a time. God's peace helped me along in a forward direction.

As I moved forward, I tried my best to also help my daughters. My oldest daughter enrolled in a gymnastics class that she liked to do. My youngest daughter was picked from her dance class for a competition group. Even though this required additional time and money, they deserved this happiness. I wanted them to pursue their dreams, and one day maybe I could rejoin life with new goals, too.

Since I had been a professional hairdresser, my friend Trish came over one day so I could do her hair. As I started, a Kenny G. song played on the radio. What freaked me out a week prior with a panic attack, this time I was totally at ease. I told Trish about the anxiety attack at Bonco. One story led to others from my grief adventures. "You should journal all your tales as a widow," Trish said. "You'll want to remember these experiences." The idea to write a book seemed challenging.

I felt like I was moving forward at a good pace when I thought about where I'd been compared to where I was now. But we should never become too confident. Because within a few moments or thoughts, we can be down on our knees in tears. We can be in so much despair and sadness that it sets us back. And as we take that step back, we want to stay there for security. It feels a little safer when we know what to expect then to keep going forward into the unknown.

I think if we continue to have a few good days in a week, it's ok to wallow a couple days in sadness and gloom. It's healthy to have productive days of moving forward in grief as well as having a few days of back sliding into a familiar place of sadness and depression. As long as we don't get stuck in our depression, we can continue to praise God for His help in moving us forward. Kind of like a few days of sunshine, after a couple days of rain. Any other analogies?

No Pain...No Gain in Grief

Key To My Broken Heart

I understand how a spouse could die from a broken heart. I had to gasp for air. It felt like I was suffocating. There's nowhere to escape. Nelson was gone- five months. It felt like yesterday! The intensity of continuous pain felt like it was swallowing me up in misery. Though I felt devastated with human despair, my faith in Christ promised us hope after death. I believed Nelson had eternal life but now I needed to find hope for myself to go on without him.

There were times that my anxiety rose to levels that I had never coped with before. "How will this pain ever go away?" I grieved the hardest when I went to bed. The intensity of pain came like thrusts of a knife piercing my heart over and over. I'd fervently cry into my pillow. Never in my life had I ever experienced distress so violently. The pain had to run its course.

On the evening, of the 5 month anniversary of Nelson's death, I was visiting his family in Puerto Rico. As dusk fell, I excused myself for an evening walk. I wanted to be alone. I didn't want to force a smile or make small talk. I was hurting. What would make it stop? I wanted to feel comfort. I wanted to be near Nelson. I walked to the cemetery where Nelson was buried. The skies had turned dark but the streetlights shone on Nelson's gravesite.

It was so quiet and peaceful. I laid on my back, on top of the above ground mausoleum and gazed at the stars as tears slithered down my temples. There was nowhere else I wanted to be. "It hurts God, so much! Help me! I don't know what to do!" I let out a few soft sobs then curled up in a fetal position. After a few moments the pain subsided as if a blanket of peace embraced me.

This became a defining moment in my grief. I knew the pain would keep coming back for a period of time. Each time my tears overflowed, God's comfort continued to take away the throbbing pain. I handed my broken heart over to God to be healed. I could then live through the pain and move on through grief.

If we keep covering up the pain and not facing it, we'll never move on and find joy again. After months of running and trying to do grief my way, I finally broke and surrendered to God. My way wasn't working so well. It was time to move on and face the giant. MY BROKEN HEART!

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!

How I was lifted from Sorrow and found Peace

                                                                       Foot-
                                                              Prints
                                                           In The Sand
                                                         One night I had a
                                                        dream. I was walking along
                                                      the beach with the Lord, and across
                                                    the skies flashed scenes from my life.In each
                                                  scene  I  noticed  two  sets of  footprints  in the
                                                sand.  One was  mine, and  one  was  the  Lord's.
                                              When   the   last   scene   of   my   life   appeared
                                               before  me,  I  looked   back  at   the  footprints
                                                in     the     sand,     and,     to    my    surprise,
                                                I noticed that many  times along the  path  of
                                                 my life there was only one set of footprints.
                                                 And    I    noticed    that    it    was    at
                                                  the    lowest    and    saddest   times
                                                   in  my  life.   I  asked  the   Lord
                                                    about   it:   "Lord,  you   said
                                                     that  once   I   decided   to
                                                      follow  you, you   would
                                                      walk with me all the way.
                                                       But I notice that  during
                                                       the   most  troublesome
                                                       times in my life there is
                                                      only one set of footprints.
                                                      I  don't  understand  why
                                                     you left my side when  I
                                                     needed  you  most."  The
                                                     Lord said: "My  precious
                                                     child, I never left you dur-
                                                     ing   your  time  of  trial.
                                                     Where  you  see  only
                                                      one set of footprints,
                                                        I  was  carrying
                                                              you."