State of the Grief Address

Well, here we are. This past Saturday was the first 23rd of the month, as in the one month anniversary of Dane’s passing from here to There. This is the first time I’ve really noted any type of time increment; up till Saturday the days simply stacked one on top of the other and pretty much ran together, forming a giant blob of days. Now that we’ve hit some measurement of time, I thought it might be good to take a little stock, and with a nod to the upcoming presidential speech, give a state of the grief address. Or post.

First I’d like to point out the pix of Pud at the top of this post (I suppose this would be the State of the Union equivalent of pointing out a guest in the gallery). Dane and I had titled this cat position simply “Pud on his rampart.” This is the place where he looks out our picture window and watches for “interlopers” (Dane’s word) and keeps the house safe from birds, squirrels, and worst of all, other cats. Here’s what’s noteworthy about this position: This is one of his fave non-napping spots, which means he’s there every day, a good part of the day. When he jumped up on the piano a couple days ago, I realized it was the first time he had been in that position since Dane had passed. He took a three-week break from a routine that he did every day. This was as good as anything of an indication to me of his grief. Other routines have been okay. Fortunately, Pud, like me, hasn’t missed a meal.

What seems to pull me out of bed each morning is a strange sense of: What can I overcome today? And while I certainly haven’t overcome anything big, what I do overcome are the hard moments that I navigate every hour. Something might catch me off guard, or it might build up. Either of these leads to my fair share of wail-crying time. I’ve noticed what brings me out of these times is usually some nugget of truth: Dana is in her splendor; her tears are now being wiped by Jesus; God has a big picture plan. Thinking on these nuggets helps pull me out; and these nuggets help me resist spouting off a nicely crafted string of profanity. Sorry, but that’s the raw flesh feeling.

I think sometimes I get a slight sense of the enormity of my loss. When I do, I’m overwhelmed. Right now it seems to be coming in manageable doses. God is also graciously leading me to people who have experienced recent pain that’s either similar or nearly exactly like mine. That’s a gift.

Some of the grief moments come quick and are actually therapeutic. This morning I ran across a med bottle that simply reminded me of what an incredibly brave soldier Dana was. I had a teary moment, a nice remembrance, and kept moving. Other grief moments have tentacles attached to the enormity. Yesterday I found myself in a conversation that simply reminded me of the special (incredibly special) relationship that Dana and I had. That one took my breath away for awhile and I know will be one of the grief biggees over time. I’ve uncovered a few other biggees; we’ll unpack those as this blog rolls along.

You may have noticed a new link on the blog page. I’ve posted on Shutterfly the pictures we had rolling at the visitation and celebration service. Here’s a link to the site:

http://thedanapix.shutterfly.com/

Feel free to comment, add photos, share stories, etc.

Thank you for your support, prayer, encouragement. I feel my Verizon Network in action!

Barry