Thursday, February 2, 2012


I like to think of myself as a more positive than negative person, but every now and then, I wonder if I am a bit naive in this grief journey thing. I keep thinking I'm doing pretty well and maybe, just maybe, I'm past and through the worst of this most difficult season in my life. Then, I have some ugly, painful days like the ones I've experienced the past four days, where I find myself falling apart all over again. Hopefully, the difference will be the duration and this setback will be short-lived.

There have been powerful triggers to coincide with my emotional state, but I still had myself convinced that I was past this stage of intense grief. Once again, I'm finding I don't know myself as well as I thought, and the devastating pain and fatigue have returned. I hate being in this place again, with little to no motivation to do anything but just be. Long ago, I realized that grief is a roller coaster ride, and we don't get to decide when it's over or get to choose when we can step away and leave it behind.

In the summer, I shared that I had started the process of going through Buck's belongings, and frankly, I didn't get very far. Last week, I tried again to get the organization ball rolling and actually made some headway. I couldn't ignore the chaos in my basement anymore, and was feeling motivated to restore some semblance of order. Having moved into our new home just three months  before Buck had his heart attack, the sea of boxes were never a priority until now. The process has been very therapeutic, but, equally painful as my goal at this point is to just try to put like things together. So far, the hardest part has been dealing with all of Buck's clothes that were hanging on the overflow clothes pole that Buck created for things that didn't fit in his closet. Having hung there for three years, I felt the need to launder everything again and hang them outside to dry during some of the recent beautiful days of late. That decision provided lots of opportunity to let more grief out.

The basement project was not the only factor leading up to the condition I am finding myself in today. Buck's Uncle Ted passed away late, last week, and I struggled with deciding if I should be in attendance. Buck and Ted were very close, more like brothers than an uncle/nephew relationship, since there was only ten years in age between them. On the day of the funeral I felt the nudge from the Holy Spirit that it was important for me to attend. This was my first funeral and visit to a cemetery since Buck's home-going and it was very difficult as I anticipated. However, I'm so glad I listened to the promptings in my heart, because my presence was so appreciated by Buck's family. It has had an overflow effect for two days now and I have decided to just embrace the grief and let it out, AGAIN!

One way I deal with these powerful emotions is to write Haiku poetry. Here is what came forth late this morning, before I was able to pull myself out of my bed.

I thought I was done.
But reality tells me
I am still broken

Hear it comes again.
When will I be better, Lord?
This still hurts so much!

What is happening?
I want to be together.
Want to be past this.

Didn't expect this.
Falling apart again, Lord.
Pouring out again.

Fragile broken hearts
Hold gallons of tears within
Emotion's river

I'm a mess again
Help me pull it together
Baby steps once more

Tomorrow will be a brand new day and will bring baby steps of motivation once again. I'm sure of it. I know the Lord will help me push the reset button and start over again utilizing this precious gift of time. I can picture us, hand in hand, leading me out of this valley. I am weak and He is strong. Strong enough to carry me when I can't go on. That's the way this Tandem Journey has been all along. Looking forward to a better and brighter day.

Feeling better after putting this journal entry together. That's what writing does for me. Looking forward to a better and brighter day to close out this week.

2 Corinthians 12:9
English Standard Version (ESV)
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”


  1. Dear Renee', there is not even one tiny weak bit within you. You are so very strong in my book. And I love your wonderful heart. I will be praying for you, as usual. Tess <3

  2. Both the triggers that sent you reeling backwards are very, very understandable, Renee. If I still had Bob's clothes to deal with, I know it would be terribly, terribly difficult. I was one of those widows who dealt with them 3 weeks afterwards not only because I had to move and Bob had been too sick to wear his clothes for months, but because I knew if I didn't, it would be much to hard later on.

    Not having gone to the cemetery since your husband's burial would also be a HUGE grief trigger as well.

    It's good for me to know that even someone further down the road than I am can experience taking several steps backwards in their journey. Grief is unpredictable. Thank you for sharing.