Archives for posts with tag: grieving

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Photo by K. Farwell

It is 2:10 PM in the afternoon with a heat index of 108.  At approximately 2:00 PM I heard a sound I have never heard in this neighborhood before. It bothered me, and it bothered my dogs. It sounded like the “Hound of Baskerville” baying —you know, the one in that old Sherlock Holmes black and white movie. I opened the blinds to try to locate the source of the racket; no dog could be seen. Then I looked at my watch. My best friend’s funeral had just started at 2:00 PM. The noise stopped, but I feel like howling and baying too. Because of my health, my age, the heat, and the long distance involved, I decided not to drive to my friend’s funeral. I am there in spirit as I type. In a way,  I am relieved not to be attending because it will make it easier to remember my friend alive, vibrant,  and full of spiritual energy.

I do not think the howling, baying dog was a coincidence. My friend spent many years working with rescue dogs and in shelters. I am sure her pets which were put in a no-kill shelter miss her as much as I do, if not more.  She was the “go to person” in my life whenever I had a medical question or a dog question…..and she was the one I could and did talk to about any and everything at least several times a week. For instance, last night I made a memorial donation to Wounded Warriors in her honor (she was a Navy nurse), and  the form I was filling out asked for a family member’s address.  I was stuck—–my friend was always the one I called for information about addresses and birthdays.

I was involved in a long theological discussion at a bible study group last Sunday, We discussed the meaning of resurrection, the importance of one’s body, and the role one’s spirit plays at and after the time of death, etc. I shared I did not believe one’s soul, spirit, or body can be divided into separate entities—-that we are holistic beings created by God in this life and will still be following our death. I probably didn’t say it quite that clearly, but I think my friends in the discussion understood what I was trying to say. My friend is still my friend  whether she is in this world or the next, this universe or a parallel universe, or is in the exact shape she had on this earth or one a bit different once her transition is finished.  The difference is, however,  I cannot see her, have a conversation with her (at least one in which she answers me), touch her, or enjoy her company as I once did. That hasn’t stopped me from talking to her a lot, and at times I can almost hear/feel her answer.

I am writing this for myself as well as to and for my friend. Maybe I just want to get my mind off the funeral, but I think what I really want this writing to accomplish is to make some sort of order out of my jumbled thoughts and bruised emotions…..to let my friend know somehow how much I still love  her and always will.  Today’s photo is a reminder of how much she loved Noah’s Ark and rainbows and God’s promises.  As always, I will close with God bless and keep you…..and with a big thank you to God for keeping and blessing me at this time when I feel like I need it most.

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Teddy Bear

Photo compliments of K. Farwell

I thought I was almost through grieving my father’s death—–and then came this morning. I was searching for a number in my telephone contacts and discovered I needed to delete “Daddy” from my contact list on my telephone. It has taken me over three months to have the courage to do that. Guess that makes me a number one “wuss.” I punched “delete contact” and cried.

It is not like I am a child. I am a grown up—-at least that is what my calendar tells me. In fact,  it is telling me next week I am one year older and am well over the age most people are when they become grandmothers.  So, why am I still “Daddy’s little girl” who cries because her father has died? Maybe because I love him. Maybe because it is part of the normal grieving process. It would be more worrisome were I not still grieving. I know all this theoretically, but the pain is still intense. Understanding it doesn’t make it any easier.

My recovery program tells me to “get out of myself and into service” when I am feeling sorry for myself. So today I am going to help lead another support group, and I am going to do some sponsor work tomorrow , and lead a recovery meeting on Saturday.   I am staying busy at home, too. I am busy crocheting projects for my business and for gifts—-and I am enjoying “squeaky clean abstinence” in terms of letting God guide my eating. I am even exercising. But there are still moments my mind wanders to what is painful in my heart.

At least now smiles come as often as tears with the memories. For that I am grateful. And I realize “deleting” my father from my contact list does not mean I am deleting him from my heart. Somewhere in the Bible it tells me there is a season for everything, and this is my season for grieving. It is part of my life journey, and Got is traveling right along beside me. Writing those words  triggered a sigh along with a bit of tangible relaxation. Once again, God is with me helping me live life on “life’s terms” as is so often said around recovery tables. I could not do so without God’s help, and I am very grateful for God’s unconditional love. God bless and keep you.