“Ducks In The Pond”

³⁰ As for God, His way is perfect; The word of the Lord is proven; He is a shield to all who trust in Him. ³¹ For who is God, except the Lord?  And who is a rock, except our God? ³² It is God who arms me with strength, And makes my way perfect. ³³ He makes my feet like the feet of deer, And sets me on my high places. ³⁴ He teaches my hands to make war, So that my arms can bend a bow of bronze. ³⁵ You have also given me the shield of Your salvation; Your right hand has held me up, Your gentleness has made me great. ³⁶ You enlarged my path under me, So my feet did not slip.  Psalm 18:30-36

It’s been four months since my “2012 In Review” post and except for my “Happy Birthday” post I have been silent as I continue to try to adjust to life without Pat.  I attend and assist with grief counseling and caregiver support groups and have officially become a “Volunteer Worker” for their Hospice program, I am still very active with my church; teaching 8th-12th grade Sunday school class and singing in the choir.

I wondered how I would deal with this first May, the first since 1979 without Pat.  Would I celebrate with happiness or sorrow?  Would I mark it as a milestone of several firsts?  Would I spend the day in sorrow, anger and regret or would I remember the love, the great times and the tender moments we shared?  Would I look back on this past year and see the progress time has brought?  I, in fact continue to do all of these things.  But let me share with you what I have learned and am still in the process of learning: Time does not heal all wounds.  Am I trying to “move on with my life?”  Yes.  Am I OK?  Define “OK.”  I still have moments of incredible loneliness, sometimes in the midst of people, during periods of happiness.  I can’t explain it and I try not to show it.  I realize my new reality is, my life is still defined by my time with Pat.  I can live with that, I can deal with that, I can cope with that.  I know she is never coming back, I am not delusional or in a constant state of “wishing she were still here.”  I recently told my sister, “My new reality understands that Pat and I are never going to be together again, not here nor in heaven.”  That is a reality that I must learn to function with in order to not let this loss totally destroy me.  I never got the opportunity to come home and let the enormity of what had happened sink in and to release all the emotion involved in that.  What I will have to do is to let it out slowly, bit by bit, until some feeling of normality comes to me.  Let me tell you something they tell you in grief counseling; basically, there will be 3 types of people around you as you go through your grieving.  The first group will be people that will help you; they will show up and see how you’re doing, they will sit with you and let you talk or cry, or not, they will take you out for a meal or a movie or just a distraction to take your mind off your grief for a couple hours or so.  They will be the ones you know you can depend on, can lean on.  The second group will neither help you nor harm you.  Those are the ones that may not know what to say or do, so they say things like “well she’s in a better place” and “you’ll see her again” and “let me know if there’s anything I can do for you”  They mean well, but it doesn’t help nor harm.  The third group, well they may say things like,  “maybe it’s time you should move on” and “Floyd it’s been a year, I think you should stop talking about Pat all the time” or “Yeah I lost my (insert relative) twenty years ago, it never gets better” or “I know how you feel, I was heartbroken when my dog died but I got me another one and I’m fine now” or again my favorite, “Well, time heals all wounds.”  Well I’m here to tell you, no… it doesn’t, at least not mine.  What it has done is slowly made the pain less intense, but my wound hasn’t healed and in my humble opinion, it shouldn’t.  What it should do is help me to realize I can go on, I can still function, I can survive.  I pray that those around me will understand that I have to work through this my way, and I pray they will be patient with me until the time arrives that I do.  But if they cannot, I wish them well, and I wish for them to be happy in their lives.  I have only one opportunity to get this right and I intend to do so.  (Wow, as I write that sentence, I remember my friend Clyde saying that to Pat and I on a trip we took to Utah in 2008, I believe.)

“A year has come ‘n’ gone since we heard the news ’bout Billie Joe

And Brother married Becky Thompson, they bought a store in Tupelo
There was a virus going ’round, Papa caught it and he died last Spring
And now Mama doesn’t seem to wanna do much of anything
And me, I spend a lot of time pickin’ flowers up on Choctaw Ridge

And drop them into the muddy water off the Tallahatchie Bridge”  Bobbie Gentry- Ode To Billie Joe

Music has played a big part in our Journey.  I remember the song Pat sang coming out of her crisis from the brain surgery.  That let me know God had sent an angel to be personally involved in her care.  I remember the trip to Pat’s chemo when she changed the music we had been listening to in the car.  She started listening to some of her old music and I watched a change for the better in her condition start on that trip.  I remember the song by Brian McKnight that played on another one of those trips that Pat asked me when it finished, “CAN YOU JUST LOVE ME THE REST OF MY LIFE?”  I remember when she started listening to gospel music on the computer every night when she became bedridden and how that seemed to bring her peace and helped her to fall asleep.  I remember choosing the recorded music for her service.  I remember the young neighbor that played the piano before the beginning of her service in California.  I remember the songs sung by “For His Grace” ensemble, my niece and my cousin during that service.  I remember the song played at the start of the memorial service here in Pahrump and my mother asking me if I was alright and me answering her; “If I get through this song I’ll be OK.” That song was “This Woman’s Work” by Maxwell and I did make it through it and I was OK.  Every time I hear that song I see Pat, the last days of her life, fighting to hold on to … Her life ebbing away and her body slowly surrendering to the ravages of the dreaded cancer, the balance between life and death slowly but unrelentingly moving toward death.  The song says “I know you have a little life in you yet, I know you’ve got a lot of strength left, I know you’ve got a little life in you, I know you’ve got a lot of strength left.”  Every time I hear those words I see her laying there, fighting like King Leonidas, having more strength than life, knowing the inevitable end was coming but also knowing the glory that awaited her.  I, on the other hand as the song says;

“I’ll stand outside,This woman’s work
This woman’s work
Ooh it’s hard on a man
Now his part is over
Now starts the craft of the father

And yes I stood with my part all but over, giving what comfort I could but at the same time just in utter awe at the strength and resolve she displayed.  I never sensed any fear from her, only that she was so concerned about those of us she was leaving behind and the resolution that she was going to do this her way.  I can only hope that when my time comes I can face it with the courage and grit with which she handled it.

Pat used to wake up almost every morning with the words “Lord, thank you for another day.” I try to say that at least once a day, and to think it throughout the day.  As I arrive at this first anniversary of her transition, I try to assess where I am in my healing and I can’t honestly fully answer that question.  I am trying to “move forward” but I can’t seem to feel that life has that “true happiness” waiting for me.  I want to “live” again, I truly want to love again… but right now, today, I just feel I will never be the same, not be able to open my heart the way it was and that hurts because I know Pat would want me to be happy and I know that the new person in my life deserves that.  But I can’t force or fake what isn’t there, to be there.  All I can do is be as honest as I can be, to say “Today, I feel I have nothing there to give, but I can give what I have.”  I never wanted to be one of “those guys” the ones afraid of commitment but I can’t rush into something I am not ready for, only to have both parties hurt in the end.

So as I wade through the month of May, I am preparing to deal with what I expect to be a deeply emotional month: the anniversaries of, her birthday on the 1^st, her passing on the 15^th, her funeral and burial on the 25^th and 26^th.  Maybe this will be the beginning of “you’ll get over it.”  Yeah, maybe…

I should be cryin’ but I just can’t let it show baby 
I should be hopin’ but I can’t stop thinkin 
All the things we should’ve said that we never said
All the things we should’ve done that we never did
All the things that you wanted from me
All the things that you needed from me
All the things we should’ve given, but I didn’t
Oh darlin’, make it go away now, 
Just make it go away. Maxwell- This Woman’s Work

So by now, if you haven’t forgotten, you are probably asking “What does this have to do with “Ducks in the Pond?”  Well it’s spring and a pair of mallards have adopted my pond.  A pair of sparrows have prepared a nest under the fan on the patio.  I see baby bunnies running around the yard (sometimes with Marley in hot pursuit.)  I see a roadrunner with a lizard in it’s beak, feeding its chick.  I have heard a frog near my pond I thought was dead or gone.  There is new life everywhere and the preparation for new life everywhere.  Maybe that is my cue, to look for new life, and to embrace new life, to not be afraid to release the hold I have on my old life.  There is no disrespect in attempting to carve out a new life for myself.  I must be true to myself, and I must be true to everyone else.  This is my opportunity to live free, to fulfill the promise we made to each other to live the rest of our life in honor of the departed spouse.

So, we will see how this month goes; see what God has in store for me, what challenges and rewards He will place in my path.  My intention is like “Ducks in the Pond” to prepare for new life.

And there will come a time, you’ll see, with no more tears. And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears. Get over your hill and see what you find there, With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.  Mumford and Sons-After the Storm

Be Blessed,

Floyd