The call came, not to me but to my sister Beth. They tried to reach me, but I didn't answer. They tried over and over and finally they called the other number they had- my sister's. I didn't purposely ignore their call, my cellphone was in my purse, neglected because that phone and I have never been close friends. To some, their phones are an extension of their arms, their lives, I use a laptop/tablet for my online life. So, yes, my cellphone was in my purse dead for all intents and purposes, the battery life - zero. So, I didn't get the call, as I said… my sister did.
The blessing that my sister is to me, she knew better than to call me with the news, she came over to my house, sat down with me, talked with me a little bit and then she said…
"The crematorium called, Dorene, Jerry's ashes are ready to be picked up." Her voice was soft, filled with compassion, her eyes already brimming with unshed tears for me, for her, for the whole of all those who are mourning the loss of my husband.
My reaction to the news? Honestly, I don't know what I said. I do know I heard my sister ask me more than once, "Where are you, Dorene? You're not here with me." I was zoning out, I was lost in that numb world of those who mourn, the void so large it truly is easy to get lost inside of it and have no outward reaction at all because for the moment it's all too overwhelming.
Then the tears came, and the howling in my heart was so loud, so internally deafening, I zoned out again. That tiny spark of unreality, that teeny tiny bit that longed for none of this to be real, that there'd been some awful mistake, that Jerry was really alive and would be coming back home - that almost non-existence unreality of a thought was crushed by the heel of that call, ground down into nothingness, everything was all too real- Jerry was gone, real, real gone…
And one of many songs Jerry loved by Van Morrison - his favorite singer - just echoed in my mind- because he used to sing it to me… I was His love, He was real gone on me… but now when I hear those words- real, real gone…my mind trips over their meaning… and changes it to Jerry being real, real gone.
This thing called grief is huge! This thing called grief twists reality- taking what you knew to be your normal and smashing it to pieces all the while offering you tidbits of itself because you so desperately want that life back! You grasp at some of the old normal, but the lingering newness of even the old normal actions are now tainted by the new truth of the new normal.
I wasn't this way with my mother's passing! My mother wasn't cleaved to me, my mother wasn't one flesh with me- Jerry was one with me- my husband by the grace of God, in the sight of God, we were joined. Now…now…there is a void. In that void my Lord God promises me protection, promises healing, gives me hope, peace, love.
Jerry's ashes were there on the counter of the small office, and I reached for them, he was mine to hold. I held the box with what remains of him physically in my arms all the way home, and he sat on the table with my arms, my hands around him for a long while. I carried him to another room with me, and then yet another, then I knew… I needed to put Him down- I couldn't keep carrying him with me, he wouldn't want me to. I walked over to the chess set he'd made a few years back, a chess set he proudly showed off and rightly so - it's a thing of beauty- and I made a place for him there on top of it. So there his ashes are for now. My heart is filled with pain, yet love; anguish, yet peace; grief, yet hope. The mourning goes on for now, and as my oldest sister who also lost her beloved husband, Ben, has told me- the mourning never stops entirely- it just lessens. The loss is never forgotten, but the pain grows dim. From time to time it will rear up and take the breath away, but it won't be like it is right now- a constant battle to breathe. I will hide under the wings of my Savior, I will let His feathers cover me, He will be my shield and buckler through this spiritual, emotional, physical war of grief.
Psa 91:4 He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler.
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Psa 91:1 He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
Psa 91:2 I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.
Psa 91:3 Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence.
Psa 91:4 He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler.
Psa 91:5 Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day;
Psa 91:6 Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.
Psa 91:7 A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee.
Psa 91:8 Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked.
Psa 91:9 Because thou hast made the LORD, which is my refuge, even the most High, thy habitation;
Psa 91:10 There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling.
Psa 91:11 For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.
Psa 91:12 They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.
Psa 91:13 Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder: the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet.
Psa 91:14 Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him: I will set him on high, because he hath known my name.
Psa 91:15 He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honour him.
Psa 91:16 With long life will I satisfy him, and shew him my salvation.
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