Here's the post that started this blog two years ago. It's been a sacred privilege ever since to meet many widows, hear their amazing stories and see how the Lord sustains and encourages them through dark, dark days. Not only does God sustain them, but I witness how their grief gradually transforms to growth, and hope, and a sense of joy. They learn that peace and pain can co-exist. When God is their strength gratitude can overcome grief. It's an amazing transformation and I am so blessed see it!
So we'll rewind some old posts this week and next, and if WCP has been a good companion for your journey through grief, I hope you'll drop me a line to say hello.
♥ ferreeSo we'll rewind some old posts this week and next, and if WCP has been a good companion for your journey through grief, I hope you'll drop me a line to say hello.
The Day Life Changed Forever
(originally posted Feb. 15, 2010)
Ten years ago this very day I woke up thinking it'd be like any other day, but I was a widow by suppertime. It's hard to believe it's been ten years. On one hand it seems like only yesterday, on the other it's like another lifetime. I was in the kitchen making a salad for supper.
"When's dinner?" Bruce asked.
Here's a "before" picture with me, the dog, and Bruce on the top step. Brooke, Brad and Lisa in front of us. |
He went down to the basement, I heard a strange yell from him a few minutes later. I found him laying down on the floor--thought he was playing a joke on me.
But it wasn't a joke. My kids called 911, the squad came, the police came. They sent us upstairs. Carried Bruce out on a stretcher . . . a doctor met us in that "Quiet Room" at the hospital. (Don't ever go in there). And days later the autopsy showed a brain anuerism.
Life changed forever that day. Widowhood was nothing like I expected. The pain was so deep it was frightening; and then it went deeper still, to a place where tears watered tiny, dried up seeds of joy and strength. They grow well in the dark. You can't see them at first, can't imagine they'll ever appear . . .
That's what we'll talk about in this blog. The day it happened for you, the darkness, the seeds of faith that look pretty measly, the strength, and finally the joy. Plus the practical, the realities, the help . . .
I remember reading this when you posted it, ferree. So strange to begin having memories of the "early days." I'm still in dark, dark days, but I am glad to have found you here.
ReplyDeleteLove you.
Thank you for sharing your story today, Ferree. I can't imagine what it must have been like to become a widow so suddenly with no warning!
ReplyDeleteI'm sure I can speak for all of your readers. You bless us every day! Thank you for your daily encouragement. You are making a difference in our lives!
Hugs, Renee'
Thank you Ferree, for sharing this again. We all have such different stories yet they brought us all together, to this widowhood!
ReplyDeleteI'm forever grateful for women like yourself who have and are openly sharing your journeys!
Thank you, Feree. I hadn't read your story before but as i read it now, realized how similar our stories were. My husband went to be with the Lord, 2 years ago on Aug 22, 2009 with 2 brain aneurysms that caught up with him unawares as we slept.
ReplyDeleteWe'd had our dinner, prayed together and were asleep in bed. I'd heard him breathing unusually when i woke up to feed my 4 month old baby and called up 911.
I was stunned, wondering how i was going to handle it. I had a 3 year old and a 4 month old looking to me to explain what happened to their dad and i was in pieces.
But Feree, the grace and peace of God, helping emails and handy tips from you, have truly helped me along on this journey. Thank you, Feree...
Thank you for sharing your story - I find that next to honesty knowing that you are not alone in this journey is essential to being able to keep moving . . to keep walking.
ReplyDeleteToday is February 16th – 11 months ago on March 16th my husband died leaving me and my four children to embark of this journey of grief . . . and a journey of trust. David died of sudden cardiac arrest – a complication of a congenital heart condition that had only been diagnosed two months earlier. I still wonder how ‘sudden cardiac arrest’ can be called a complication.
Our world changed that day as I suddenly found myself in pieces struggling to see. David ended every prayer with the following words, ‘We thank God for all good things and we trust Him with the rest.’ This is were I choose to land each day. I will thank God for all good things and I will trust Him. . . even when I struggle to see.
I look forward to reading more . . . to learning from your experiences . . your strength . . your belief in God. Blessings.