Being a widow can be messy. Grief is unpredictable and shows up at unexpected times. In late February I had a particularly difficult week. I took a quick trip to Maine by myself to attend a Celebration of Life for a dear man who had a profound influence in Jon’s life. Jeff was a Godly man that poured his heart and soul into discipleship, and Jon benefited greatly from his ministry. The last time I saw Jeff was in November, and he knew he would not be around much longer. His cancer had spread to his brain, and he was ready. His joy was contagious as he looked forward to Heaven. We had the opportunity to chat, and he said to me, with tears in his eyes, “I can’t wait to pray with Jon again.” We hugged, and that was the last time I saw him.
At Jeff’s service, I was able to see friends I haven’t seen in years and cry with those who have walked with me through Jon’s diagnosis, his cancer journey, and his death. Friends that have supported me through my grief journey and know how another loss brings fresh grief. It was wonderful and hard all at the same time.
On Wednesday of that week, I shared with a new friend my experience as a caregiver for 3 ½ years to Jon and my life since losing him. I answered many questions and was so thankful for the opportunity God gave me to connect with this woman who was experiencing the loss of her son a couple years prior. These conversations are healing and hard all at the same time. They take a lot of energy and leave me feeling wiped out for a couple of days. I wish it still wasn’t like that. I want to share my story and Jon’s story. I always hope that “this time will be different”, and I won’t be left feeling depleted. But the exhaustion always comes.
Two days later, I came across this notecard, handwritten by Jon. It was very unexpected and took me by surprise. It was so good to see his handwriting and see his heart again. He had such a burden for people and continually pointed them to Christ. He didn’t let his cancer stand in the way of his ministry. He would say that he didn’t want to waste his cancer, so he used every opportunity he could to show Christ to others. It brought me to tears, seeing that notecard. After 15 ½ years, it feels like it shouldn’t still be hard. That I shouldn’t still miss him so much.
But it still is hard.
And I still miss him so very much.
0 Comments