Friday, January 7, 2011

Too Much...

Before I begin today's entry, I would just like to say that had my Dad been alive, today would have been his birthday; Happy Birthday, Dad!

If you read yesterday's entry, you'll know that after spending the afternoon visiting at three (3) funeral homes, I felt horrible and cried many tears.

What I haven't told you about, is what happened at the last funeral home I attended. 

You may have read that this was the one where my co-worker/Realtor friend's wife's visitation was being held.  Unfortunately, she lost her battle with cancer.  My friend truly loved his wife.  He knew I had been praying for her.

As I approached my friend's family and began speaking with them, my friend stepped forward and greeted me in typical Italian fashion, taking my hand and kissing me on both cheeks.

I don't know whether it was because I had been to so many funeral homes that afternoon and thought so much about the pain and sorrow of losing a loved one, or what it was, but for the first time ever in a serious situation like this, I began to feel myself losing it.  Losing control of myself.

Never, ever before, have I ever done this.  In my mind, I began asking God to help me.  At first, I thought He was.  Helping me, I mean.

In a quiet voice, with what I thought was full composure, I told my friend that I was very sorry about him losing his wife.

Usually, God gives me grace and the words with which I can convey my condolences.  Not then!  Not only did I actually go blank, but I felt rather awkward, since my friend and others gathered around us were looking directly at me. 

Then, I blurted out how I had prayed for her; my heart was breaking, thinking (but not commenting) that once again, God didn't answer my prayer in a positive way.  I thought they were expecting me to say something more, but no words came out of my mouth, other than, "I'm so sorry.  So very sorry."; which I said, repeatedly. 

I could feel tears welling up.  I didn't want to cry.  I'm Christian.  I know that for a believer, to be absent from the body is to be with the Lord.  I turned away from him for a moment and looked at the casket where his wife was laying.

Turning once again to look at my friend, I said, "She's not suffering, anymore." 

I wanted to tell my friend that while his wife's suffering had ended, his wasn't going to end, just because hers had; I wanted to tell him that his suffering was going to change and begin in a different way, than while she was alive and sick.  But, I didn't.

By this time, I didn't think I could say another word without bursting into tears, for I could feel them beginning to exit from my eyes.  I turned and walked away.  My mind is such a blur over this incident, that I cannot even recall saying 'goodbye' to my friend.

Tears just flowed.  And flowed.

Not being able to get a grip on myself, I realized that this was not going to be the day that I fulfilled the promise I had made myself a while back.  I had promised myself to begin the new year, by trying to do things to help me on the road to beginning a new life.

I had promised myself that in the new year, I would go to the bank and place Gordon's wedding band, that I had been wearing, into my safety deposit box.

Truly, I just wasn't strong enough to do this, being totally overwhelmed.  Why?  I don't know.  I just know I was.  So, I just made my way home, to cry some more.

Just so you know, the following day, I called my friend, after his wife's funeral and apologized.  He was very gracious.  May God bless him and heal him from grief, quickly; his family, too.


Until next time...

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