Silent Screams (and other odd sounds)

This is what I'm thinking RIGHT NOW. It may not be what I'm thinking tomorrow.


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Who is God?

God.  Who is He and why should we want to follow Him?  I can only tell you about what God is to me, my personal God.  I used to have a punishing God.  He held me in His hands but only because when I did something wrong He was ready to squash me.  He was only present in my life when I did something wrong.  Why would I want to follow a God like that?  I didn’t.  I disconnected myself from God in my teens because He was just too harsh.  Now I always believed in God, but I didn’t want to have anything to do with Him.

Today, I have a different conception of God.  To me, God is a loving, kind, benevolent, omnipotent, nonjudgemental, and just God; among many other righteous things.  But still I wonder.  I wonder if I am worthy to be in His presence.  The Bible says that I am worthy through Jesus Christ, but am I worthy to be in the Holy of Holies with God?  Yes, I am; but I still feel this nagging feeling that I am not worthy.  I feel that if I saw God in my presence today, I would fall on my face because His magnificence would be overwhelming.

Now I know that Jesus died on the cross for my sins and that I am clean in Christ Jesus, but am I really clean?  I sin.  The plain truth is that I sin.  I have crossed lines that I said I would never cross and yet God says He loves me still?  How humbling.  Jesus abolished the law and made a “new” law that always was but he drove it done hard in the New Testament of the Bible.  His new law?  That you love one another as Jesus loves you.  I fall short.  I love others, but would I lay my life down for another?  Would I lay my life down for strangers so that they can go free.  I would lay my life down for my children — probably —  but do I know for sure?  Do I love those that deliberately go out of their way to hurt me?  Probably not.  So I can’t even fulfill the ONE law that God gave me.  And yet, He still loves me.

I don’t understand this God that I serve, but I know that He is more just than any other god that I would serve.  I know that He loves me despite my sin.  I know that He has made a place for me in heaven with Him and that I will dwell in His holiness forever, even today.  I know that I am comforted by God even when bad things happen – and bad things will happen; just as good things will happen.

Who is God?  I have taken my God out of the box that I kept Him in for so long and released Him to do for me what I can not do for myself.  He has made me a more kind and loving person and for that I am forever grateful.   I know that I have a “right” to God’s love and redemption, but I want to feel worthy.  I want to be filled with His love and have that pour out to others.  Like David, I want God to say, “this is a man after my own heart.”  I want others to know God, not through my lips, but through my actions.

Today, when I meditate on God, He is holding me in his arms like an infant in swaddling clothes and He is looking at me like a mother looks at her newborn child.  He is looking at me with the wonderment that this adult…this child, is His.


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Widow’s Brain

I suffer from Widow’s Brain.  Don’t laugh! Widow’s Brain is real.  Widow’s brain is a very frustrating phenomena that occurs with grief.  Widows Brain makes you feel like you are in a fog and just going through the motions of life.  I’m not quite sure how long it lasts but I hope it doesn’t last much longer.

Widow’s Brain makes me forget about almost everything.  I forgotten when I was suppose to meet a friend for dinner, I’ve forgotten that I’ve had meetings to attend, and I’ve even forgotten that I’ve signed important contracts.  For someone who has always been sharp and on top of her game, this feeling, this brain, is unnerving.  Can you imagine someone saying to you, “don’t you remember that?” and you have no idea what they are talking about; not a glimmer.

Imagine this for a minute:  You are in an intense, intelligent, conversation with someone and you are just about to drive your point down and all of a sudden, you forget what you are talking about and have to ask the other person, “what were we talking about?” Yes, I say, the struggle is real.

Widow’s Brain even creeps in when I’m cleaning the house.  I’ll put things away never to find them again, well at least not for a long time.  I’ll forget where I put the dust rag and I’ll find it hours later.  Yes, I’ve even misplaced the vacuum for a short period of time.

My dogs; however, love my Widow’s Brain because they sometimes get fed twice for dinner.  No wonder they love me!  They do get a little frustrated when I’ve forgotten that I let them out in my fenced yard and don’t let them back in for awhile; but they let me know when they’ve been out too long by pounding on my door.

I thought for a while that I might have early onset Alzheimers, but my doctor quickly dashed that thought.  He said that with Alzheimers, the person generally does not know they are “slipping away.”  I know that I’m not at the top of my game at times.

Widow’s Brain.  Don’t laugh.  The struggle is real.  I’m just waiting until the fog lifts.  It has too lift.  Right?


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Time

It has been almost one year since I’ve blogged and I probably wouldn’t have blogged today except I got an email from WordPress reminding me that I have a blog.  I quit blogging a while ago because all I had to give was my grief at the loss of my husband.  Two years ago he left this earthly plane for his heavenly home.  You’d think after all this time I’d feel better about things, but I don’t.  You’d think that after all this time my fog would have lifted, but it hasn’t.  Today, I am still in as much pain as the day he left, I just can hide it better now.

I can hide my tears when I wake up in the morning and go to bed at night.  I can hide my feelings at meals with friends.  I can hide my raw pain when others talk about their husbands.  But it’s still there; that raw, aching, throat clenching pain that I feel most of the time during the day.  I cry inside a little every time I go to a place where they ask you for your status and I have to say, “I’m a widow.”  With close friends and family I can be myself.  I can cry when I need to and sometimes they even make me laugh, but my laughter never reaches my eyes anymore.  It’s almost like I feel I don’t deserve to laugh or be happy in the wake of my husband’s passing.

I know Bill would not have wanted me to go through life sad.  He would have wanted me to be happy and live my life to the fullest and trust me, I am trying to do that but it is so hard to be happy when you feel such a loss from the inside.  I’d rather just stay in my own house and wallow around in my own grief; but I don’t.  I have been the “traveling queen.”  Since Bill’s death I have been on 2 cruises and a week and a half trip to Colorado and I’m going back to Colorado soon.  I’ve gone, but I’ve felt guilty in some ways.  It’s almost like I don’t deserve to be happy since Bill died.  I should be in a perpetual state of mourning.  But should I?  Should I stop living because the love of my life is no longer with me?  I see other widows moving on and I’m glad for them but I think “how do they do that?”  They seem to have forgotten all about the loved one in their life but I know they couldn’t have.  It’s just me wishing I could be like them.  Wishing that I too can have those laughs that reach your eyes.


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Still Remembering

It seemed like it was going to be the same day as it was yesterday.  I woke up and turned to sit on my bed, my feet touching the cold wood below.  The too big king size bed didn’t fit in the room anymore and I thought briefly about buying a single bed; but I knew I wouldn’t do it.  One side of the bed perfectly made and the other side barely slept in.  At one time the sheets barely stayed on the bed, but things were different now.

I stood up and shivered, pulling on my robe and turned to his side of the bed and the tears began to flow.  Once again, he was gone.  His body did not rumple up his side of the bed and he hadn’t stolen the covers from me throughout the night.  The blanket lay flat on his side of the bed, not even a little out of place.  My tears stuck in my throat, my vision blurred.  I wanted to scream but only God would be able to hear my anguish this morning; but I did scream.  I did scream out my love’s name, but he didn’t hear me; but thankfully God did.

God there is so much I miss about Bill, but most of all I miss the way You put him together for me.


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A Widow’s View without Pictures

The day before yesterday was Christmas Eve and yesterday was Christmas.  Next week it will be New’s Eve and New Year’s Day and then it will be over.  Thank God.  I can’t wait.

I spent the entire holiday with family except I left for home around 5pm Christmas Day; and while I love my family, I couldn’t help but think of how much is different since Bill is not here.  I didn’t get to spend the entire night Christmas Eve fighting Bill off when he would ask me repeatedly what he got for Christmas.  He would even strike up deals with our kids, “if you tell me…..I’ll tell you.”  My older child (adult) never fell for his tricks, but the younger child (adult) would occasionally fall for it since he actually would tell her what she got.

On Christmas Day, around 5 o’clock pm I announced that I’d be going home for the rest of the evening.  There was a little discussion about how I shouldn’t go home but I just wanted to go home.  I wanted to be in a place where I knew Bill lived most of his life.  I was told I was selfish to think only of myself because they missed Bill too.  I know they do, but my grief is my grief and their grief is their grief.  My children grieve their dad but on a whole different level.    I don’t  minimize their grief but my grief to me is all-consuming.  I think about Bill all the time.  Even when I smile its just a symbol of what I’m suppose to do; but if you look closely, my smiles do not reach my eyes.  My eyes still search for the man who I loved all those 44 years  –  still love.

I don’t know how to explain it but it’s almost like the day Bill died a part of his DNA that was mixed with mine screamed out to the universe.  I ripped in two: one side died and the other side had to carry on.  The crazy thing is that I wanted to go with the side that was no longer here but my”normal” side wouldn’t let me.  I sometimes think that if it were only Bill and I tied to each other when he died, I would have gone with him; but I have more of Bill’s legacy and my legacy here on this earth.

I have lost a grandmother, a mother and a father and those deaths were hard to take.  I remember crying and then laughing when a funny story was told about them.  I laughed a real laugh and yes, I cried real tears.  I have not lost a sibling so I can’t say how I will react to something as devastating as losing my brother would be and I have not lost a child which has to be the ultimate insult.  I don’t know how people can live through that.  All I know is that I lost my husband, my love, my live and it is by far the worst pain I have ever experienced.  The Bible says”a man shall leave his mother and cleave to his wife and the two shall become one.”  I lost my “oneness” with Bill.  I lost not just a piece of me but an integral half of myself.  Most of the times, I just feel empty.

I hate when people acknowledge Bill’s life and I exult when people do acknowledge his life.  I’m a complete and utter oxymoron.  Wanting both sides of an equation that others don’t know how to approach.  If I honestly had my druther, I’d rather have those who knew Bill acknowledged that he lived and was a good man; those that did not know him, but knew me and can relate in some way to my pain, I’d love a hug from you just long enough to tell me that “someday” you will remember him with a smile and laughter and exalt in the joy he gave me.

I didn’t realize how much Bill and I were enmeshed in each other.  When he died my covering left and I was cold, left alone in the rain to find a path of my own without Bill; but instead I just stood there, crying, waiting to feel his breath against my cheek, praying that I’d feel his soft lips against mine, waiting to hear him say “Carmen, I love you.”  He said it all the time.  He didn’t call me “baby”, he didn’t call me “honey”, he called me Carmen and I loved to hear my name escape from his lips.  Bill, I so love you.  I loved you so much that it hurts right now.  My pain is unequaled.

Bill touched so many lives.  He gave of himself freely, not asking anything in return.  He fed the homeless, he helped the widow in her time of need, he taught others until I thought he would have nothing more to give.  He was always there to lend a hand however he could; and in turn, when Bill became ill, others did for him without asking anything in return.  Bill was one in a million and I know, without a doubt in my mind he is with his Higher Power.

My prayer for me is that Bill’s death is just a nightmare of which I am ready to wake of from; my prayer for Bill is that he stay seated with his Maker in all His glory with Bill’s presence adding to the light in heaven.  Bill, you are seated with the Father in all His glory where death and pain can never touch you again.