Facing life in the aftermath of losing my boyz' father, my husband of 12 years to a brain tumor in 2009. Continually adjusting ourselves in this new life of ours. Always journeying down an unfamiliar path. Yet we KEEP BELIEVING for our future.
For our transition to the St. Louis area to be smooth and for all of us to feel a sense of belonging again.
Renewed emphasis in our spiritual/prayer life
Brian and the boys, October 2008
People who love me! (or haven't told me otherwise)
I am: Widow, Mother, Christian, Confused, Silly, Serious, Logical, Thoughtful, Irrational, Role-playing Father, And figuring out my place in this world again as a single mom of two boys after losing my husband of 12 years to a brain tumor in March of 2009. KEEP BELIEVING used to pertain to believing in Brian’s physical healing. Now it is a family motto – that changes with each season of our lives.
I visited the cemetery a couple weeks ago. Been thinking about you and wanted to go to the place we decided to bury you for a couple minutes of quiet (very cold and wet) time.
I hate it there.
I hope this feeling won't last much longer.
You see, I can't get past knowing your body is lying 6 feet underground there where I stand. Instead of standing, sitting, walking or kneeling and fondly remembering you, I just can't get past the thought of your BODY entombed below. I feel like I can see you through the soil.
I cannot escape the thought that the same arms that hugged me each evening when you arrived home and held me each night before I wriggled away to my comfort zone for peaceful sleep are in that casket below.
The same fingers and hand that reflexively intertwined with mine are now forever still beneath that frozen tundra.
The same bow legs and feet that shuffled through life those last two years as you lost your ability to move around easily are immobile under that snow.
The same mouth that formed every word and smile, the same tongue that performed many stupid human tricks, the same voice that comforted, consoled, gently critiqued and encouraged everyone around you are now eerily silent just under my feet.
While the grief and the pain of losing you are much easier, the cemetery just makes me think of your body.
I can't get past it when I am there.
I can barely fight the urge to start digging just to see you, which I realize is incredibly warped.
I pray that one day soon, it will become the comforting spot I intended - a spot to remember you peacefully and fondly.