Began with really unhelpful, “What if…?” questions, and “If only…!” statements, and blaming myself, and feeling extremely guilty. "How could this happen on MY watch? God gave Ruth to me to watch over, to care for, to protect, but look what happened! I failed Big Time!"
On the other hand, when I wasn't feeling crushed under that guilt, I felt: "What??! You're so cold?! So heartless?! How can you....!?" Which was just about equally destructive.
My emotions have been extreme and at times uncontrollable. Slowly they are subsiding and coming back to a less volatile, more placid state.
At one point I finally found the ability to say: "O.K. Whatever you say is possibly true to some extent, but go talk to Jesus about it." That helped.
At first I was not sleeping or not sleeping well. Very light sleep. Lots of thoughts. Waking many times through the night.
Had no idea it could hurt so much.
Later I thought: If I put this down on paper, it’d look pretty simple. “Two people have been reduced to one. I just need to learn how to function as a single.” What’s so hard about that? Lots and lots of people do that. That’s no big deal. But of course, I’m finding it really a struggle at times. What’s going on?
In other words, looking at Ruth and I in terms of “function”, “purpose”, “tasks”. We accomplished not only survival together as a team but we actually accomplished ministry, bringing God glory. We did that as a pair of people and those survival and ministry tasks are still the same even though now I face them as an individual. God hasn’t changed either. I can do cooking, cleaning, shopping, ministry, accounts, laundry, ironing, etc so where’s the difficulty?
Duh!
I realise now (but didn't back then) actually, these “functional” things are the least of my problems. The real core of my loss is “relational”. That is why it is difficult. I have spent 42 (more!) years relating to Ruth. My relating has become second nature/ingrained/habit/reflex/automatic and is on all kinds of levels (intellectual, emotional, social, academic, physical etc). That is now totally gone.
I have to unpack what “relating” means: Communicating, being transparent, open, real, honest, intimate, sharing, living together, hanging out, being company, sharing everything, using her as a sounding board, she was a listener, an encourager, a critic, a teacher, a helper, of course physically too: hugging, kissing, but doing teamwork, “divide & conquer”, cooperate, I loved her, she loved me, all of that is gone.
Have slowly begun to sleep better. Have had some good nights of sleep. Am slowly getting more and more good nights of sleep.
Another thing I want to learn how to gauge is when I’m feeling sorry for myself. I think this self-pity is dysfunctional. It feeds into the loss and exacerbates it. How do I recognise unhelpful self-pity? What might be some tell-tale signs?
I need to make the most of this initial time when everyone "understands" and expects me to be grieving. This freedom to feel deeply will not be extended to me forever. Folk'll begin expecting me to "move on", "get over it".
Feeling like an addict undergoing “withdrawal”. Desperately wanting, craving, needing, longing, aching for something I can not have.
Am continually amazed how physical the pain of grief is.
Another step was realising that No matter how hard I wanted Ruth back, no matter how strongly I yearned for her, ached for her, cried out to have her, none of that would make even the tiniest difference. It just is NOT going to happen.
I seem to have to go round and round and repeat some lessons before they are going to properly sink in. For example, I had accepted that Ruth has died; that she is not coming back, but I’ve had to re-accept that. Remind myself of that. Repeatedly re-visit that lesson.
To Do:
1.) Keep this list/diary/journal/map of my grief journey
2.) Find books, websites, articles etc. David Kessler
3.) Consult other widowers and widows
4.) Talk to coach Mike Lee again
Am repeating and repeating many times a day: “Ruth has died.” “Ruth is not here.” “Ruth is not coming back.” Just calmly trying to remind myself of the facts. Trying to align myself with the reality of my situation so I don’t keep on thinking: “It can’t be true.” “Ruth’ll probably pop back sometime soon.” “I’m looking forward to seeing Ruth again (like it’s going to happen this week sometime).” Each time I say it, I hear it and it's like a slap in the face, but I want to live in the truth, not sliding away into euphemisms. Painfully confronting though it is, I am preaching to myself.
Though I am not a particularly strong-willed person, up to this stage I've been able to feel sad, feel disappointed, feel discouraged, down or whatever and recognise and label that emotion and put it effectively aside and get on with life. Grief hasn't been like that. Woomph! Grief has enveloped and overwhelmed me on its visits. When grief is prominent, all I seem able to do is feel. There is no option to label it, categorise it, put it aside. No objectivity. No "will". There seems to be no way out. The logic, the whole language of "determining something", "making a decision" seems absent in these episodes. All I can do is experience the feeling.
It took a considerable length of time before I could even consider a Romans 8:28 view of Ruth's death. I still disagree with God. I think it'd be far better for Ruth to be here! But I concede that God is God and I am not and that means He knows best. I can't understand, but I am growing in trust.
There are (!) glimmers of "glass half full" but they are minuscule. The massive loss dwarfs them.
The links in my thinking to Ruth are innumerable. Understandably, after over 42 years of loving her, she is associated with millions of things in my mind. For example: a restaurant is "the restaurant Ruth used to like". Another place is: "Ruth and I used to say we'd go there one day". Thousands of things every day are defined in these and similar ways by Ruth. "Ruth would like this." "Ruth would never do that." "That is just like Ruth." "I wonder what Ruth would say about this." Directly and indirectly my mental habits have built up pathways relating (I don't know, but it feels like) 95% of my experiences to Ruth. This is ingrained to such an extent that involuntarily, as a reflex, my mind draws these links to my dead wife almost all the time. Consequently, to unlink these thoughts, to establish new mental habits will take I believe, many, many days and a lot of repetition. (Note: C.S.Lewis experienced the same thing. He says: "So many roads lead thoughts to H. I set out on one of them. But now there's an impassable frontier-post across it. So many roads once; now so many culs de sac.")
I have heard some widows mention trying to make Jesus their "husband". In a similar way, I long to be able to reprogram my brain so that every former link to Ruth goes to Jesus. "Jesus will like this"; "Jesus would never do that"; "That is just like Jesus"; "I wonder what Jesus thinks about this".
It's like I've got this invisible, great gaping wound, still red raw, bleeding. It hurts. I have to just put up with it. There's no point in focussing on it. It just is.
Almost 8 weeks after Ruth's death, today, for the first time, I think I'm no longer angry. I know I was angry before. I was angry with myself. I was angry with the first responders. I was angry with my friends. I was even angry with Ruth! I was angry with God. I'm tentative because so much of this grief journey is loopy: I loop back around and visit again lessons and experiences I thought I'd put behind me. So I can't be confident I won't get angry again, but it feels good to not be angry now.
March 18. I'm fascinated with the mind's working. On one level I want to study grief & investigate it and learn as much as I can from it. But on the other hand I don't want to be obsessed with my grief. I don't want to get carried away or get too preoccupied by my grief. Grief is not my whole life. I don't want grief to define me. And yet I don't want to waste my grief. What ministry lessons could God be teaching me here? Like a really bad doctor, I don't want to be constantly poking and prodding and probing my grief repeating: "Does THAT hurt?! Does THAT hurt?!" For a start that's much too painful. But on the other hand, by probing a little and examining my grief I'm learning what it's like and getting to see that what used to be too painful to do is now a little less painful. (I'm healing!) I don't want to live in denial. My grief, my loss, my pain is real. I can ignore it for periods but it's not healthy to try and pretend it doesn't exist.
Eccles 4:9Two are better than one,
because they have a good return for their labor:10 If either of them falls down,
one can help the other up.
But pity anyone who falls
and has no one to help them up.
11 Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?
12 Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.
These truths were such a blessing when I had Ruth here! Now that Ruth is not here, I really miss her cooperation, encouragement, teamwork.
I used to reassure myself when I was out walking, that if anything happened to me, Ruth would be contacted. She would come with the car, or something. She was my backup. Now I know, that safety net is not there.
March 25 Tony at Men's Connect Group casually said that because his wife is away he is just constantly, non-stop at work. I find myself tending to do the same thing. I have breakfast over the computer, working. I eat lunch over the computer or phone, working. I have no one to go take a break with. I need to intentionally force myself to take breaks.
I hurt. It's not just "loneliness" as in: "I wish someone were here. I wish I wasn't alone." It's more than that. It hurts. But I also do suffer loneliness. I DO wish Ruth were here. I can't help but think: "It'd be better if Ruth were here." and: "I wish I had Ruth to share this with." over and over. But I recognise this is just the way it is.
I don't mind my own company. I'm ok with myself. Mostly. There are still shallow re-visits to: "Couldn't you have done something to stop Ruth dying!?" They hurt too.
Julia L. wrote that "living solo has enough challenges apart from grief". That simple distinction helps. Yes. I'm challenged on two different levels.
March 31 Grief hasn't gone "Woomph!" and enveloped me, overwhelmed me for some time now. That's good. Grief is now more on the edge or the background of every waking moment. I can choose to visit it or not. Sometimes it presents itself more obviously but mostly it's behaving itself.
Strangely, I miss Ruth in our burden sharing. We could halve a job. We took equal responsibility. If something had to be done, one of us would do it. Now that's gone. It's me. Only me. If I don't do something, it doesn't happen. The dust is totally MINE. The vacuuming is totally up to me. Dirt on the floor? Someplace needs a tidy? Laundry to be done? Shopping? Communicating? No options. No load sharing. No delegating. No team work. Either I do it or I have to live with it undone.
Formerly I always parked the car to help Ruth, by parking it so it's easy to drive out. Now I'm still parking the car that way but of course it's no help to Ruth(!) I don't know what to make of that. In the exact same way I'm no longer pleasing Ruth by keeping the sink spotless. The way I make the bed is the way Ruth liked it. I can't know any secret pleasure that I've made her life any easier by doing anything. I can't serve her. We used to have a competition: see who could out-serve the other. No more. Anything I do, only benefits me. Seems empty.
Eccles 1:15 "what is lacking cannot be counted." If I try to number my loss, try to count or measure it, or even just begin to list it(!) it is too much. It can seem to go on and on. Never ending. Trying to count what is missing is NOT a good idea. May God help me to avoid this.
April 3 Ajith Fernando (via Mike Lee) on Romans 8: There is a godly, God-honouring "groaning". We are groaning in hope. We are groaning aware of the awesome discrepancy this world presents to us. Because reality falls so incredibly short of God's standards, we are frustrated. We do suffer. Groaning is to be expected. If I groan to God and to God's people it allows God and God's people to comfort me. I'm encouraged to hear that. I want to try and groan in this way to God and to His people.
April 5 My "sound-bite" answer to: "How are you Gary?" is: "Great! Better than I should be." Because I am aware that God is helping me and I am doing better than I would naturally expect if I were doing this grief journey on my own. But I want to give my questioners the option of settling for this "sound-bite" or discovering a bit more.
Janet Dallman linked me to the following resources:
Authors of books:
1.) Duncan, M - Good Grief: Living with Sorrow and Loss
2.) Horsfall, T - Grief Notes: Walking through loss: The first year after bereavement
3.) Littledale, R - Postcards from the Land of Grief: Comfort for the journey through loss towards hope
4.) Sittser, JL - A Grace Disguised: How the Soul Grows through Loss
5.) Wolfelt, A Grief Day by Day: Simple, Everyday Practices to Help Yourself Survive...and Thrive
3 Videos:
There is a group in Carindale on 9th April at Citipointe Church from 6-8pm. Here's that link: Find a Group - GriefShare
I really like Nora McInerny. She says a lot of good things in a very rich way, illustrating everything with her own personal (very vulnerable) experience plus a good sense of humour. Can I find a podcast by her called: "Terrible, Thanks for Asking"? I like the Jewishness of the podcast presenter: Mayim Bialik. (Why is that?)
I still need to practice more sharing of my grief. I've been too closed. (Warning: Watch out world! Here I come!)
April 7: Another encouragement from a widower on Sunday: "Tell your story!" If I can, I want to give it a go.
From Dale Viljoen: “The Mourner's Bill of Rights”
by Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D.
Though you should reach out to others as you do the work of mourning, you should not feel obligated to accept the unhelpful responses you may receive from some people. You are the one who is grieving, and as such, you have certain "rights" no one should try to take away from you.
The following list is intended both to empower you to heal and to decide how others can and cannot help. This is not to discourage you from reaching out to others for help, but rather to assist you in distinguishing useful responses from hurtful ones.
1. You have the right to experience your own unique grief.
No one else will grieve in exactly the same way you do. So, when you turn to others for help, don't allow them to tell you what you should or should not be feeling.
2. You have the right to talk about your grief.
Talking about your grief will help you heal. Seek out others who will allow you to talk as much as you want, as often as you want, about your grief. If at times you don't feel like talking, you also have the right to be silent.
3. You have the right to feel a multitude of emotions.
Confusion, disorientation, fear, guilt and relief are just a few of the emotions you might feel as part of your grief journey. Others may try to tell you that feeling angry, for example, is wrong. Don't take these judgmental responses to heart. Instead, find listeners who will accept your feelings without condition.
4. You have the right to be tolerant of your physical and emotional limits.
Your feelings of loss and sadness will probably leave you feeling fatigued. Respect what your body and mind are telling you. Get daily rest. Eat balanced meals. And don't allow others to push you into doing things you don't feel ready to do.
5. You have the right to experience "griefbursts."
Sometimes, out of nowhere, a powerful surge of grief may overcome you. This can be frightening, but is normal and natural. Find someone who understands and will let you talk it out.
6. You have the right to make use of ritual.
The funeral ritual does more than acknowledge the death of someone loved. It helps provide you with the support of caring people. More importantly, the funeral is a way for you to mourn. If others tell you the funeral or other healing rituals such as these are silly or unnecessary, don't listen.
7. You have the right to embrace your spirituality.
If faith is a part of your life, express it in ways that seem appropriate to you. Allow yourself to be around people who understand and support your religious beliefs. If you feel angry at God, find someone to talk with who won't be critical of your feelings of hurt and abandonment.
8. You have the right to search for meaning.
You may find yourself asking, "Why did he or she die? Why this way? Why now?" Some of your questions may have answers, but some may not. And watch out for the clichéd responses some people may give you. Comments like, "It was God's will" or "Think of what you have to be thankful for" are not helpful and you do not have to accept them.
9. You have the right to treasure your memories.
Memories are one of the best legacies that exist after the death of someone loved. You will always remember. Instead of ignoring your memories, find others with whom you can share them.
10. You have the right to move toward your grief and heal.
Reconciling your grief will not happen quickly. Remember, grief is a process, not an event. Be patient and tolerant with yourself and avoid people who are impatient and intolerant with you. Neither you nor those around you must forget that the death of someone loved changes your life forever.
Up until Sunday April 14, 2024 I was going so well! So many people warned me that birthdays, holidays, anniversaries etc will be difficult. Maybe because of that, my birthday (Saturday) was actually quite good. I treated myself to a Macca's breakfast. I had a window blind hung. I had 2 good Bible studies and then Derek and his family shouted me tea. Yum! Sunday was going well too until 2 dear ladies innocently asked: "How's your wife? Where's your wife?" I had no easy way to help them save face. That led to: "Was it sudden?" and my explanation probably was what tipped me over back into grief. I probably over-shared. I certainly began to not only remember, but to re-live those final moments of Ruth's life. Not helpful.
April 16 I just miss Ruth awfully.
I've just had 4 straight days of unusual sadness, grief, hurt, pain, loneliness. Not focussed on anything in particular, just excessively fragile/sore to the point of (at times) being unignorable.
April 22 Ian Grice says when his mother died, his father had to be reassured over and over that he was a good husband. This fits in with my experience of self recriminations, criticism, accusations, regrets, discouraging insights from hindsight. I am still not sure where the healthy balance is. Of course I failed at times. Of course I wasn't the perfect husband to Ruth. Of course (& it hurts me now to say this, but) at times I hurt her. I wish I didn't. I wish I was perfect. I so want to right all those wrongs; to heal all those wounds. Please God forgive me. If some of these accusations come from the devil, he can go consult with Jesus.
A lady (I wish I could remember her name!) at NEB with a British accent shared how she is grieving and her husband died SEVEN years ago! I don't want to do that!
Merv (bless him!) reminded me: "Don't go back & pick the scab!" Yes! I totally agree. I don't want to unnecessarily revisit something or disturb/awaken anything that is just going to be painful. "Leave well enough alone" is an apt phrase. Sometimes, unbidden, without my intending to, I wander into painful thought territory. Sometimes it seems against my will I can't help but think of painful memories. But, if I have a choice, as much as I have the freedom to do, I want to take the common-sense approach and not suffer if I don't have to.
Grief can be weird. Wants to trap me both ways. For example, after feeling sad I may not feel sad. Sometimes I then feel guilty for not feeling sad! (Groan!) Mariana mentioned this.
May 2 My latest metaphor for grief is "Weather". We can and often try to predict the weather. Sometimes we're right, sometimes not. Grief is like that. We want to and often try to predict grief. Anniversaries, birthdays, times of tradition are said to be times of grief. But grief doesn't always fit this pattern/prediction. Another way grief is like weather is: We can't do much about weather. When it rains, it rains. No matter how much we want it to stop raining, we can't influence the rain. Grief is like that. We can't do much about grief. It does us no good to really wish it wasn't here or that it will stop. Just like we just put up with weather, so too I just learn to put up with grief. After 1, 2 or 3 days of rain I assure myself, "This can't go on forever. Maybe tomorrow will be better." Grief is like that. After a day or two (or more) I assure myself: "This isn't going to go on forever. Surely tomorrow (or the next day) will be better."
I'm increasingly able to look at Ruth's picture and not think: "Ohhhhh! Wish you were here!" but rather to think: "It was great to have you as my wife. God really blessed me!"
I put the happy, healthy picture of Ruth into the April prayer letter because I want to remember that she is now happier, more blessed, more alive than ever! Where she is, is "better by far" (a la Paul in Philippians).
Alister who lost his wife recently is so matter-of-fact and down-to-earth, full of common sense. After his visit I felt I could possibly have a crack at sorting through Ruth's desk. It was hard when I reached one envelope that contained two cards. They were both from me to Ruth expressing my love & how much I valued/treasured her. Obviously they meant something to Ruth because she kept them. They were hard to read. Hard to know what to do with. But I managed.
May 9 Monday SDBC Bible study notes say: "Therefore I conclude that if I'm not happy, I'm not very satisfied with God. I've chased a false happiness; I've invested in less than the best. For those who truly want to walk with God, happiness is not just an alternative; it's imperative." I find the logic compelling. I am persuaded. But.... ! When Jesus wept over Jerusalem was it because He "chased a false happiness"? At that point did Jesus "invest in less than the best"? Similarly when Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus. (???) So, clearly, there are exceptions to this Bible study argument but I resonate, I agree that idols can rob us of joy. If we chase anything other than God, if we invest in anything other than God, those things will let us down/disappoint us. I tried to not make Ruth or our marriage an idol. Am I grieving now because I failed? Is my grief because I made Ruth my idol? Mmmmmmm..... God knows. I may not have been 100% successful. At times I may have over-invested in my marriage, in my treasure (Ruth). I appeal to God. He is my Judge.
I find that I can succeed at cleaning up/sorting through Ruth's desk if I take it super slowly: just one letter/card/memo/scrap of paper at a time. As I chip away at it, I am making progress. I mustn't over-think things!
Ironing had developed a (negative) inertia. The more I delayed, the harder it became. Then I just lightly (almost ignoring, or not paying particular note of what I was doing) got out the ironing board and did it before I knew what was happening. Success!
May 10 I'm still amazed at how I want to see Ruth. I want to report this or that, share what's happening, hear her feedback. Just HAVE HER HERE! I'm surprised because I'd just as soon wish for the moon. No, actually, it's probably slightly more likely that I can get the moon given to me than to have Ruth here. So I know that wanting Ruth is a totally unrealistic want. And yet that's what I want. Makes no logical sense!
May 11 What was God teaching me through Ruth? What should I consolidate now? Without Ruth to influence me, what ought I to learn? What ought I to avoid? What ought I to continue? Or to begin doing now by myself without Ruth's influence? God blessed me for 42 years through Ruth. I want to use that as a launching pad and continue that trajectory of blessing and I believe that is what God wants. To not go backwards. So for example, one thing for sure was "generosity". Ruth was repeatedly an example of generosity of giving, of seeing peoples' needs and sharing with them. I don't want to lose that now simply because she is not here.
May 16 In "Star Trek", Mr Spock comes from a race which lives by logic not by emotion. In the "4Spiritual Laws" is a: "Fact, Faith, Feeling" illustration that says: believe the facts and let the emotions follow. Both these prioritise Truth over feelings. I agree with this principle and have taught and practiced this for decades (in 2 languages). But the exception proves the rule. "Grief" is the exception. I am still amazed, fascinated and surprised that I can be so illogical. When I know full well that Ruth has died, it's unreasonable, illogical, makes no sense to want to have her here, but of course......(!) Grief is not logical.
May 30 I'm conflicted. On the one hand, logically, in my mind, as I think through and decide my way forward, I say: "Don't go there." "Don't revisit the pain." "Leave the loss alone." "There's no end to mourning." "There's no benefit to walking down that road of desiring Ruth, missing Ruth, wishing she were here." "Leave it alone." On the other hand, my emotions, my instincts, my natural inclinations, my whole somatic being leans in that direction; leads me down that road! Somehow, there's this large part of me that still hasn't read the memo, that still hasn't come up to speed, that is still living in the past when Ruth was here.
June 2 I depended so much on Ruth. Whether it was for practical: cooking, housework, prayer letter proof-reading, reminding me of appointments, nudging me in good directions, or less tangible, less visible dependency: just by her presence, her listening, her love, acceptance, consistency/reliability, she was there for me. I depended on her. Is part of my problem now, is part of the reason why I'm not simply going forward, am I repeatedly looking back and slow to launch out because of a lack of self-confidence? Am I somewhere not convinced I can do this (or that) on my own? In actual fact, every day I am proving to myself that I CAN "do all things through Christ Who strengthens me" even without my Ruth here with me. Even just writing that, re-expressing that I am finding energising & empowering. I may need a little longer before I sufficiently believe this. But each day is a successful step in this direction. Thank You God!
June 4 Two new thoughts: 1.) God, in His love, took Ruth, allowed Ruth to die, rescued Ruth from here. Ruth's death was an act of His love. I know, that makes no sense, but it's true. Though I am left with lots of questions, though I can't explain it, God is love, so this must be true.
2.) Will I always miss Ruth? I mean, for as long as I'm on this earth, before I die, for as many years as God has ordained for me to remain here, am I going to carry this sense of wanting to see Ruth again and be with her?
June 7 Many people have counselled me with good advice adding: "And that's what Ruth would have wanted for you!" I find that slightly compelling. I agree Ruth would want the best for me. But I also want to say that I'm not living according to what Ruth would want. I want to live, my aim in life is to live according to what Jesus wants for me. Of course many times, the two are the same!
July 4 On Sunday at Keperra church before the worship started, just out of the blue, I was spot-blessed. It wasn't a Bible verse. It wasn't another Christian talking. It wasn't even words. But, even though that makes it impossible to quote, I got the impression God was saying to me: "I smile on you a lot more than you give Me credit for." At once I was really encouraged. God smiles on me? Wow! And He does it more than I'm noticing?! That's great! Really?! Good news! Then I felt convicted. "I'm sorry I've been misrepresenting You!" "Please forgive me for not recognising You as You really are, and instead portraying You in a bad light."
I've distributed the remainder of Ruth's ashes on Mt Glorious.
I'm chipping away at tidying up Ruth's desk. Still making slow progress but progress nonetheless.
"Enough already! Who wants to hear sadness and pain? If we can't do anything about it, what's the point of re-hearing it? Leave it alone." That's not what I'm hearing from other people. Those are MY thoughts. I'm getting tired of grief. I'm getting impatient with myself hanging on to ........hanging on to ..what?
July 6 I am looking for the "comfort" that God says He, the God of all comfort, is supplying me with so that I can comfort others with the comfort He is comforting me with. (2Cor 1:3-4) More than once, well-intentioned and enthusiastic prayer supporters have told me they expect God to wrap His loving arms around me and comfort me. I received this equally enthusiastically. "Bring it on!" I thought. But I haven't experienced that kind of "comfort". A young pastor friend of mine suggested the "comfort" is to know that Ruth is in heaven and that all things work together for good and that God has plans for my good to give me a future and a hope. I acknowledge all of them. No doubt about it. They are good news. They are true. They are facts that I believe but they barely registered as: "comfort". They were more like cold, objective, external theorems, like the multiplication table or the periodic table in chemistry. My heart was untouched.
I discussed this with a few Christian friends. I said: "Perhaps God is ministering to me "comfort" that I'm not aware of. But if He is, then they are hardly "comforting" at all if I don't perceive them." I've since changed my mind. Perhaps I'm taking for granted a whole edifice of "comfort" that God has lavished on me. Maybe I'm standing on a great, solid foundation of "comfort" without even realising it. Compared to those who "grieve without hope" I am blessed with a world view which assumes that "comfort", takes it for granted. That could be my blind spot. The comfort might sound trite and certainly sounds simple, not new, hackneyed(?) but the old tried & true Romans 8:28 for example, for all its over-use,…. still, that doesn’t make it any less true. It is still true. If I’m looking for some deeper, new, more profound insight, then I can tend to (unfortunately) overlook Rom 8:28. Then it certainly doesn’t satisfy but…..compared to believing the opposite….! The same goes for every single Sunday school learned memory verse. I’d much, much more prefer to live in a world where there IS sense, there IS a reason, a purpose, even if I can’t at the moment clearly see that purpose. My prayer: May God show me His comfort so that I can minister that comfort to others.
At the moment, (although these things are hard to measure) I feel no better equipped to minister compassion, mercy, gentleness, patience, comfort to anyone. If anything, I sometimes feel as if my tanks are running so low that I have less to give! Oh my!
July 7 I complain to God that Ruth shouldn't have died when she did. I say: "That was a bad idea. Really poor timing. After all, she was getting better. The Clinical Depression was less and less evident. She was on the verge (?maybe?) of new fruitfulness in ministry again. I certainly needed her." But......if I get real.....if I ask myself: "When would a good time be for Ruth to die?" Mmmmmmmm..... I'm at a loss. O.K. There probably isn't a good time. Was Jan 14 a good time to die?? Mmmmm...I can't say that, but I am less confident that I can complain.
The strange sense of matter-of-fact calm that both Ruth and I felt just prior to her death is unexplainable. I guess it could be "shock", but there was no drama to trigger shock. I mean, it was just normal to be calm, unperturbed when Ruth just had a dry cough. Everyone gets a cough from time to time. It might last an hour or even a day or at most a day or so, but we all get over it. But Ruth and I were calm and still thinking: "oh yeah. O.K. No big deal." even when she registered a fever and even when we arranged for a doctor and even when I called the ambulance and even when the lady at emergency (on the phone) asked me if my wife had stopped breathing.(!!!) That was unnatural. Supernatural. Weird. Uncanny.
July 12 I felt like crying. I wanted so much to share with Ruth. In the end I didn't cry. I asked God if I could share with Him. Of course I can. It's not the same but I think it's a step in the right direction.
I'm trying to work out strategies for safely living as a single. In the unlikely event that I am immobilised and not able to phone for help, (that's probably a super rare occurrence right? really unlikely, but.....) is there a way that someone can be signalled to come and check in on me?
August 1 I’m still learning. I only just realised for the first time(!) that I’d basically lost sight of all our (Ruth & my) decades of hope and dreams together. Those decades were “normal”. I mean, having positive expectations, expecting positive outcomes, even hoping for improvements on what was already “good”, dreaming of idealistic possibilities, all of that was "normal". We routinely lived that way for decades. For most of our lives, I lived without even appreciating hope. (for example). It was always there. It was my background. I never thought about it. I assumed that hope was a given. What could change?! I had no inkling.
Depression, anxiety, (however we decide to label our mental health challenges) changed all that. In a very short time, hope, positive expectations, optimism, looking forward to the future, all of that vanished. It’s only occurred to me now, that those decades of taking hope for granted are the real context of Ruth and my mental health challenges. Those decades are my proper bench mark for understanding 2017-2024: the years of mental health struggles. Because I’d forgotten (?is that the right word?) all those years of having good expectations, it seemed like hopelessness and sadness and emptiness was always the way it was and was always going to continue to be. It’s good for me to set the record straight. It’s good for me to recognise the hope-filled majority of my life far outweighs the last 7 years. I don’t know if that makes sense. I am not explaining it as clearly as I’d like.
It's hardly important but I had my nervous tic back again (a muscle spasm in my right arm regularly going) for 4-5 days last week. And I had my stomach again being very noisy again as it had been. Just 2 physical symptoms I don't understand.
August 9 I had a new thought: I thought: "What are you sad about? You had a wonderful wife for 42 years!!!"
I was finishing my daily walk. I was on the last leg. I thought (as I countless times have thought) "I'm going home." And as usual I was looking forward to being home, a positive expectation, a tiny "this is going to be good" feeling. Then I thought: "BUT part of the definition of "going home" is that Ruth will be there, and she's NOT there! So actually, I have nothing to look forward to. There's no one waiting for me. I have everyone here, right now that I have at my destination. This is it! There's nothing. There's no advantage ahead. Nothing better about being home."
I am sure there is a plan. I am convinced there is a "good" that even this grief will result in. This is not purpose-less. God has a goal. I can't see that goal. I really wish Ruth hadn't died. I still wonder: "Can it be true?! Ruth is dead??! Really??!" and I can not see the plan and I may never know the purpose, but that's increasingly ok. I am slowly coming to terms with Ruth's death. I am not questioning God as much. My assertions that MY plan was different (to what happened), which is my way of foolishly standing up to God and implying: "My way was better", are getting less and less frequent. Hallelujah!
August 12 Yesterday at church I was challenged. "God didn't cause Ruth to die. God doesn't kill people. He's not responsible." These are the (I think simplistic) arguments. I know "the problem of evil". I know thousands of people, philosophers, theologians, the average man in the street have wrestled with these "causality" questions for centuries. Yet there is a grain of truth here.
I re-read "A Grief Observed" by C.S.Lewis. He says unexpectedly something inside him tries to assure him: "Come, I shan't do too badly." I've had similar thoughts. He describes "the bath of self-pity". Yes. That has visited me too. In direct contradiction to Psalm 46:1 Lewis says God is "so very absent a help in time of trouble." Lewis felt abandoned. I've felt something like that. But for me, it wasn't like God retreated or hid (as it seems Lewis felt). For me it was a strange, irrelevance. It didn't matter if God was there or not. What I needed was a gulp of air, to be able to breathe, to live! He also writes: "I see people, as they approach me, trying to make up their minds whether they'll "say something about it" or not. I hate it if they do, and if they don't." Ha! The double standards of grief! He puts it well. I have experienced a little of that tendency to be a grouch. Lewis recognises & complains that already his memory of his wife is growing imaginary because she is no longer there to correct it and it is his mind that is choosing and arranging the memories. I'm sure that's true. I am not so bothered by it. He spits out the conceit/deceit: "She will live forever in my memory!" with anger at the foolishness anyone could have to believe that. He says: "That is exactly what she won't do." He so contrasts his wife and his memory of his wife.
C.S. Lewis says: "my heart and body are crying out, come back, come back. But I know this is impossible. I know that the thing I want is exactly the thing I can never get." I've had a similar experience. Here's an interesting thought: "Do I hope that if feeling disguises itself as thought I shall feel less? Aren't all these notes the senseless writhings of a man who won't accept the fact that there is nothing we can do with suffering except to suffer it?" Lewis spends an entire page reflecting on how he knew all along all about what he is suffering now and yet that knowledge is as nothing compared to his present experience. "I knew already that these things, and worse, happened daily. I would have said that I had taken them into account. I had been warned - I had warned myself - not to reckon on worldly happiness. We were even promised sufferings. They were part of the programme. We were even told "Blessed are they that mourn" and I accepted it. I got nothing that I hadn't bargained for. Of course it is different when the thing happens to oneself, not to others, and in reality, not in imagination. Yes; but should it for a sane man, make quite such a difference as this?" I too register and revisit the shock of "knowing" all about death and dying and grieving (I studied all that in Qld uni and then something of it again in Baptist theological college) on the one hand, and actually experiencing grief myself, on the other hand. There's a BIG gap! Lewis calls God "the Cosmic Sadist" and then reflects that that was him "getting the only pleasure a man in anguish can get; the pleasure of hitting back." ..... "mere abuse; telling God what I thought of Him. And of course, as in all abusive language, "what I thought" didn't mean what I thought true. Only what I thought would offend Him. Gets it off your chest. You feel better for a moment." Lewis suggests a possible answer why he felt so abandoned, or as he put it: the door slammed in his face, shut and bolted. He says: "You can't see anything properly while your eyes are blurred with tears. You can't, in most things, get what you want if you want it too desperately: anyway, you can't get the best out of it. "Now, let's have a real good talk" reduces everyone to silence. Delicious drinks are wasted on a really ravenous thirst. Is it similarly the very intensity of the longing that draws the iron curtain, that makes us feel we are staring into a vacuum when we think about our dead? Them as asks (at any rate as asks too importunately) don't get. Perhaps can't. And so, perhaps, with God. I have gradually been coming to feel that the door is no longer shut and bolted. Was it my own frantic need that slammed it in my face? The time when there is nothing at all in your soul except a cry for help may be just the time when God can't give it: you are like the drowning man who can't be helped because he clutches and grabs. Perhaps your own reiterated cries deafen you to the voice you hoped to hear." He postulates that "knock and it shall be opened" has an exception clause. He puts it like this: "But does knocking mean hammering and kicking the door like a maniac. Perhaps your own passion temporarily destroys the capacity to receive." . Lewis struggles to understand: "getting over" grief. He contrasts getting over appendicitis with getting over having one's leg amputated. He says "he will always be a one-legged man." "I will never be a biped again." He picks up on the no-escape feeling that I've had, by saying: "in some sense I feel better, and with that comes at once a sort of shame and a feeling that one is under some sort of obligation to cherish and foment and prolong one's unhappiness." He says he's pretty certain God would tell him not to be a fool. He thinks it might be partly due to vanity. And he thinks it might be also due to a confusion. We've confused the marriage with the pain. So that we think if we no longer are in pain we are no longer married or worse still, deserting or divorcing our partner. What I called grief being "loopy" (see after 8 weeks, wayyyyy above) C.S. Lewis says: "One keeps on emerging from a phase, but it always recurs. Round and round.Everything repeats. Am I going in circles or dare I hope I am on a spiral?" C.S. Lewis says his writing about his grief was "a defence against total collapse, a safety-valve" and says "it has done some good". I think that's also true about this blog. But I'm also hoping to record some thoughts before I forget them, in the hope that they'll be of some use to others going through grief. Lewis says: "I do all the walking I can, for I'd be a fool to go to bed not tired." I too try to walk every day if at all possible. At first it was an absolute necessity. I had so much adrenaline in my system and my mind was so wound up I really despaired of sleep. Now I occasionally can skip a day and even without a walk, get a reasonable sleep. Many days down the track, C.S. Lewis records: "Turned to God, my mind no longer meets that locked door". I too am slowly recovering (too slowly for my liking!) a sense of God, His presence. I am more able to perceive Him. Hallelujah.
August 20 I'm surprised I haven't blogged this before but I don't want to have my total identity sucked into the "widower" category as if that's all I am. I am a widower. My wife has died. That's a massive event to me. I am still walking through that and suffering that and learning from that, adapting to the ramifications; but I am more than that. I am not only a widower. I don't want to think of myself as merely a widower and I don't want other people to think of me like that either.
Yesterday I was in the shower when suddenly, unexpectedly the wind blew the door open. I spiked in joy for a nano second with the thought: "Ruth!" before I came to my senses.
August 22 I spent 3 hours with a dear old friend who is depressed and borderline suicidal. It was heavy, hard, sad. I so wish I could be more of a help to him! Immediately after that, I visited Geoff my brother-in-law and he asked me deep questions about the very last minutes of Ruth's life. I re-lived those events.
The other day, driving home, my longing for Ruth....! How can it be so physical? It surprises me.
Sept 1. I relied a lot more than I thought on Ruth's affirmation and encouragement. She wasn't a big encourager but even little smiles or positive remarks are now missed.
Sept 24. What power words have! I remember Ruth saying as fiercely as she could (which wasn't very fierce, she even had a smile on her face): "And I don't want to find your whiskers in the sink!" Ha Ha! I took that to heart and immediately established a habit of always cleaning the sink whenever I used it.
Oct 3 The pain (of grief) is less intense and less frequent than it used to be. Hallelujah. I'm moving in the right direction.
Oct 31. Illogical though they are, temptations still come to grieve, to inflict sadness, loss, suffering on myself because this is the noble thing and will show how deeply I loved Ruth. If only emotions could be controlled by logic!
I seem to be a chronic over-eater. I know it used to be comfort food and I'm recognising that more now and cutting down on that but even just plain healthy meals seem to fill me up more now. So I am cutting back.
I used to be thorough. I used to be diligent about following through and always completing whatever I started. Everything I saw through to the end. Now I have 4? more? projects uncompleted. It's not good.
I have healed in one way that I can see: I was unable to simply take Bible truth and slap them on myself. They were too painful, too impossible. I had none of my attention left after simply trying to cope with the pain. But now I am coming back to being able to see a Bible principle, agree with it, pray it back to God, look for Him to work, try to cooperate with Him accomplishing it in my life. Example Romans 12:12 "Rejoice in hope!"
Nov 3 My emotions are closer to the surface. In church a week or 2 ago I was choking up as I was singing. I couldn't identify any "trigger". There was nothing I recognised as linking the song to Ruth. I may have been extra tired because that was the JHoP weekend.
Nov 3 My mental toughness/determination/willpower are pathetic now; so weak! My reading comprehension has decreased markedly as well. So, I can barely "push through" when things get difficult. I can barely endure the slightest tinge of hunger, thirst. I crumble quickly. Need instant gratification. But I'm getting better.
Nov 12 It's not clear to me, but I wonder if I've still got some residual anger towards God? In a weird way am I denying myself a richer relationship with Him as an illogical way of "punishing" Him?? Please God forgive me and help me now to begin to move into thanking You even for Ruth's death. I want to trust You that even that is serving a better, higher, greater, more glorious, wonderful purpose. I see a similar inability to understand death being portrayed in "The Chosen". (Thomas & Peter) Help me to trust You even when & especially when, I don't understand.
Nov 16 The impossible has happened. I heard myself saying to God with reference to Ruth's death, the words of Mk 14:6: "You have done a beautiful thing to me." (!!!!) I still can't fully agree and I certainly can't see how it is "a beautiful thing", but I am beginning to entertain thoughts in this direction. If it is God's will somehow to take Ruth from me, then this must work for some wonderful, beautiful purpose, just as the hideous death of Jesus worked to a good outcome. May it be true!
I have awkwardly, hesitantly, briefly shared twice now on 2 separate occasions, how Ruth and I had a strange peace right through her death. How calm we both were.
Dec 5 I am pondering, mulling over, the thought: "I've lost my wife, not my God."
Even though desensitising has worked to a significant extent and I no longer suffer to the depth I once did, I still need to repeat: "Ruth is dead". It still hurts, but I want to live in reality. And as I repeat this, it hurts a tiny bit less each time.
Jan 1st, 2025 For the first time I briefly entertained the idea that Ruth's death can be seen as her "reward". That's still a radical idea to me. I'm not sure how that sits with me. But I appreciate the equal/opposite lesson: "Have I on any level been feeling that Ruth's death was a punishment?" I by default often found myself trying to lay blame. Who did what wrong that caused Ruth to die? That's been a subconscious theme/script. Looking for things we shouldn't have done, looking for our failures, mistakes. I need to explore these two ways of thinking: "reward & punishment" more.
Surprised I'm still cleaning the floor still finding myself thinking: "Ruth'll be pleased." Yesterday immediately after thinking that, I asked God: "Do You even see my clean floor?! Can I clean my floor for You?"
Jan 2nd, 2025 It's been almost a year since Ruth died. How can that be?! Anyway, I still want her back. Still wish she were here. Still miss her viscerally. But I'm coming to terms with it. Learning to accept it. And thinking more about John 14 "I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also."
Jan 5, I'm thinking more about "death" and "dying". If only life and death were binary! If they were, death and dying would be quite a lot more attractive than they are now. Because the journey from life to death is (often, mostly?) a continuum, consisting of small increments, it's a much bigger challenge. The intervening stages are trials of all kinds. God grant us His grace to transition well!
Small improvements I've made to everyday living/housekeeping are much less satisfying now because I can only celebrate them myself instead of with Ruth. To such an extent, I am almost without motivation to improve. What's the point?! Only I benefit! I perhaps need to re-train myself to grow pleased with such positive steps even though Ruth will never benefit.
Jan 20 O.K. That's one whole year without Ruth! I've done all the first anniversaries: our wedding anniversary, Christmas, Ruth's birthday, the day Ruth died.etc. It's not been fun but it's not been as difficult as many predicted either. God supplied many Christian brothers and sisters who came alongside me by phone, email, text messages etc and prayer. That made the difference.
I never realised how much of my joy came from sharing. I was gaining so much joy from sharing everything with Ruth. I catch myself even now, occasionally thinking: "I'll tell Ruth!" "Ruth'll want to know!" "That'll tickle Ruth."
Feb 6, 2025 My Caloundra holiday. Would've been better with Ruth but, well, what can I say?!
Am trying to memorise the lyrics to "Yet Not I but Through Christ in Me". They are so good. I want Ruth and everyone (me included!) to know them. I hear Ruth singing: "When the race is complete, still my lips shall repeat: Yet not I, but through Christ in me" And somehow I think I remember her standing beside me singing this and looking at me like "Yes! This is MY song! My life. My testimony!" But am I just imagining that? Or did it happen? I think it happened.
I miss her.
Feb 7, 2025 "Relic" noun; an object from the past, esp. one that has no modern use but is often valued for its meaning or importance in history; a person or thing that has survived from an earlier time but is now outmoded. a survivor or remnant left after decay, disintegration, or disappearance; a trace of some past or outmoded practice, custom, or belief "Artefact"noun; an object made by a human being, typically one of cultural or historical interest. something or someone arising from or associated with an earlier time especially when regarded as no longer appropriate, relevant, or important. I am constantly unearthing artefacts in my everyday life. Here a thought, there an expression, a memory, a habit, how I make the bed, why I clean the sink, hopes of a conversation, promises to myself that I'll repeat such and such. All of these and myriads more surface from my past life, my former life with Ruth. Relics of a bygone era. Parts that no longer make sense in the current context or hold no weight unless placed in their historical context. Are they treasures? Mostly I still think so. As useless as they are to me now, they are still important. But I can see the day approaching when these bits from the past will be just seen as "old", "left overs".
Feb 16, 2025 Not sure who I'm writing this for, but surprisingly, I choked up this morning in church almost to the point of tears when I sang "How I long to breathe the air of heaven". I could remember/feel Ruth so vividly.
See if you can follow this, if this makes sense: There's this popular song:
"I just wanna speak the name of Jesus Over fear and all anxiety
