We passed the six month mark on Sunday, February 10th. I wasn't sure how that day would affect me. I am glad to say that it was the most "normal" that I have felt on a Sunday since Rex passed. I had such a good day, in fact, that I thought I was having a turning point in my mourning. The next few days were even good days, but I was ambushed again. I can't predict when I will have those sudden moments of intense sorrow. I can't really prepare for them. They come when I least expect them. It's not the birthdays or special days that hit the hardest for me. It's the days I least expect it, the regular days.
We have mostly adjusted in our daily life, our routines. While I/we needed the adjustment to help us cope, it saddens me because it simply means that we are going on without Rex. We are making new memories that don't include him; we are experiencing milestones that he is not a part of with us. There is an undertone of misery with each memory and milestone because we are very aware that Rex/daddy is not here to share it with us. As I see the girls adjusting, I want to keep Rex' memory alive for them. I periodically ask them to tell me some memory they have with their daddy. Already, I see Lindsey forgetting so much. Her memory she mentions every time is the very last time he played with her. I will mention something for her, and she doesn't remember it. It is heart wrenching for me, especially as I see her really try hard to remember. Here is this little girl that is going to have a hard time remembering specific memories of her daddy. She was three when he was diagnosed with cancer; all she really remembers is his life as an ill man. I agonize over the loss that Rachael will always feel in that vacant part of her heart that can only be filled by a relationship with her father. It is my prayer that her Heavenly Father will fill that vacant part. I am apprehensive as Erin and Amber head into tweenage and teenage years without the daily role model of what a gentleman and godly man looks like, acts like, talks like.
With each of my girls, I have played lullaby CD's at night to help them wind down for the night while they were babies. Lindsey and Rachael share a room. So, Lindsey is getting to listen to them, too. This past Sunday (Mar 9th), I decided to change the CD and put a different one in. I didn't think much of it, it was one of my dense moments. About 10 minutes later, I heard Lindsey sobbing hard and loud. I checked on her, and she was really upset. The CD that I had put in had the song Butterfly Kisses on it. She was still awake, listening to the CD when she heard that song come on. As she listened to the words, she realized that it was a song from a daddy to his daughter. I remember when this song first came out; I remember getting teary eyed to it many times as it touched my heart. I know it was hard for Lindsey to hear it and grasp the reality that she would not have this in her life. This was the most emotion I have seen from her since Rex' death. I wish I would have responded better; I was simply speechless. I don't think I uttered a word. Erin had also heard her crying and had gotten to her before me; she held Lindsey as she cried. I watched in a catatonic state, unable to help or soothe. I am glad that Erin was there because she was able to fill the shoes that I couldn't at that moment. I am not berating myself for playing the CD, but I wish I would have thought about it and been more discerning.
As we feel our way around to a new "normal," there are things that I am noticing and experiencing firsthand. I have joy and pain simultaneously. I can feel both at the same time. My joy comes from my relationship with my Lord; my pain comes from the loss of my relationship with Rex. The second thing I acknowledge is the feeling that I am half alive. Rex was my other half, and I feel half dead. Will I ever feel fully alive again? Who am I now? The third thing I recognize is that I am broken, and I need God's healing. My heart has been broken; my life has been broken; my dreams have been broken; our family has been broken.
When I was first widowed, I believed the old adage that time heals all wounds. Time. Does time in itself really heal? I think that time is just a scab. The real healing begins when we ask God to heal our heart. If honesty and trust are paramount for mental health, then I must openly grieve and ask God to take my broken world and "set" it. Secondly, I must trust Him, really trust Him, to do that.
I still have no answers as to why God would take Rex, a person who had lots of promise, at such a young age. I may never know or understand. While I think about it frequently, my life can't revolve around why? It doesn't help, and I am not God. I was reminded of this when I read Genesis 5 several weeks ago. Here you have a chapter giving the lineage from Adam to Noah's family. It is one of those so and so begat so and so begat so and so chapters. I usually have a tendency to speed read these chapters as I read my Bible, but this time something caught my eye.
Genesis 5:24 And Enoch walked with God: and he was not; for God took him.
Here was a man that lived 365 years, only 43% of the average life listed in this chapter. Translated into our times, Rex lived 52% of the life expectancy of a male in the United States. Enoch died a young man and he walked with God! The other men listed in Genesis 5 didn't have anything noted about them like this. Why would God take Enoch at such a young age if he was worthy of being called a man that walked with God? I found comfort in this verse because once again, I am reminded that God is sovreign, and I cannot possibly understand all of His ways. He does not answer to me. I also noted that Enoch was the father of Methusaleh, the man often coined as the oldest man who ever lived. So, did Enoch leave a footprint? I think so. Rex has left his footprint, as well.
Are you leaving a footprint for those that follow you? What kind of footprint are you leaving? Is it a footprint of faithfulness, patience, love, grace, kindness, mercy, generosity? or Is it a footprint of strife, anger, selfishness, foolishness, greed? Think about your footprint, ask God to give you a great footprint, a worthy footprint, and wear that footprint well.
I haven't gotten a tombstone for Rex' grave yet. I believe that I am going to do something a little different. I want to take his shoes and put his shoeprints on his tombstone to remind us that he has left a footprint in this world, and God is going to use it to impact this world for Him through what he has left behind.
Have a blessed day,
Donna Meadows
