No Weapon Shall Form Against Me...

Boy, do I have lots to say tonight.  Thank God He has a hold of my tongue and I will try to "vent" in the most Christian of ways possible.

There are some snakes in the grass during widowhood and I have HAD MY FILL of them all.

I want to ask you a few questions and I really want you to consider the questions a while.  Think from MY perspective...a WIDOW'S perspective...a SOLO MOM'S perspective.

How evil can someone be to try and cause harm to a widow and her son?  I mean, it really takes moxie to try daily to cause harm to another person.  It takes even more moxie to do so to a woman who is trying her best to keep her head above water, between the depths of grief and the depths of debt left on her shoulders.  And I don't mean physical harm; I mean financial, emotional, whatever. I guess that grief is supposed to end pretty quickly and no one should ever consider the utter sadness still being felt.  I mean, we should be over it by now, right?  Wrong.
 
How about someone's lowness to stand on the sidelines only to watch and "tattle" when they think something "fishy" is going on?  I love how some people think they know my son's and my business and are not the kind of neighbors I would ever want in my life.  Poke a bear. Fuel a fire.  Whatever idiom you want to use, some people do this all the time just to send someone my way who will cause me trouble. And why?  What is gained?  Is this really the Christian way?  Is this really what God is leading you to do?  Ummm...no...it isn't.

How cruel can someone be to simply "forget" that my son exists?  Forget to actually SHOW UP for him?  Forget to call and talk with him about his day, his week, his MONTHS since the last time?
How about forgetting that Conner has NO male influence in his life and might need one and that you should actually step up to the plate and BE A MAN????  Or how about not forgetting...just NOT DOING.  Plainly remembering and offering HOPE to Coner, but never following through. Conner and I have heard WAY TOO MANY empty promises the last almost two years. Way too many.

But here is the deal.

No matter how much they try...no matter how much they love to see my suffering and my son's suffering...their game is nothing compared to God's game.  HE has game; they don't.  I am guessing that I am not the first widow to experience this kind of behavior from outsiders.  It makes us fighting mad.  It makes us angry beyond all measure of the word; it makes us want to shed the wrath of widowhood upon all of them.  I cannot tell you how many times I have ALMOST picked up the phone, dialed a few numbers I have and let loose.  But what will that accomplish?  Nothing but putting myself as low as they are.  And I shan't do that. Here is what I will do instead: pray.

I have had a beautiful day with my son and his friend Evan.  I had a beautiful day with my sister, niece, and her boyfriend yesterday.  My life is beautiful even with all its scars and pain. I have prayed many thanks to God for these kind of beautiful days for my family.

My life is filled with plenty of people who DO love us and would never cause us harm or say mean and hurtful things.  I am blessed with co-workers and staff who appreciate my efforts on a daily basis and who respect me for those efforts.  I thank God for the job opportunity I was blessed with after Mike passed away.  I am blessed with friends who text me every so often just to say hi and they hope I'm doing well.  I am blessed with prayers from all across the community.

I am blessed with treasures above all treasures: a son who makes up the best parts of Mike and me and forgiveness from my Father.  And trust me, I have needed plenty of forgiveness my whole life, but an exponentially greater amount since widowhood began.

I have a home that I love, but even if I did not have this home anymore, I will always have HOME because wherever my son and I are...that is HOME.

My mother-in-law has told me from the beginning of losing Mike that, "No weapon formed against you shall prosper, Veronica, that is in The Bible and I believe it."  She has been praying that for me since we learned I was going to have to battle for anything because Mike didn't have much of our property titled properly.  I have been in probate court more times than I can count and I am STILL battling.

God has held my shoulders up all these months.  Some days honest to goodness, I am barely standing. I am not saying that to receive sympathy...I don't want it.

I DO want empathy...understanding...patience...love...support...prayers...kindness...time for my son...time for me...dinner together...movie nights...texts to lift my spirits...offers that actually turn to action...no more empty promises...scriptures of encouragement...more prayers...help with things I don't want to ask for, like yard work (sorry Amy that your husband is always chosen for this task...;)...space...time...more prayers...

So, they can go ahead with their evil plots.  What will be will be.  I lost my husband, my best friend, the love of my life.  My son lost his dad, his hero above all heroes, the man he actually CHOSE to be with whenever he had the chance.  What more can they do to us; what more can we lose?  Whatever it may be will not tear us down.  We have stood in the depths of hell on Earth and are still on the fringes of it on any given day.  So, bring it.  God's game is strong.  No weapon they have will prosper against me or my son.

Keep loving, people.  Love all that you can while you can. Spread love and kindness and grace.

I am probably burning some bridges with this post.  I should have set them on fire a long time ago.

Widow Thinking...

I'm not sure about other widows, but I sometimes get in this thought pattern that is not healthy. I call it Widow Thinking. It's similar to Widow Brain (the forgetfulness and confusion that comes with this life), but worse. Widow Thinking brings the negative thoughts to the forefront, regardless how much I try to push it back down.

Yesterday kicked my tail and brought the Widow Thinking around after what had been a beautiful morning and afternoon spent in church. It doesn't make sense how Widow Thinking will just come out of nowhere and take over; it will ruin a perfectly beautiful day.

My dad just randomly showed up at our house while Conner and I were watching tv together. I haven't seen my dad in a while and was surprised to see him through the window but it was a pleasant surprise. I asked if he had time to take Conner bow-hunting and so they left soon after Dad arrived.

The house was quiet and I got in a little tv time to myself. Then Conner called because he had shot at a deer and tried to call my dad but there was no answer. I was about to start dinner but Conner needed help tracking his deer, so I pulled on my boots and headed his direction. I guess the first thing that set the Widow Thinking into action was seeing the soon-to-be new owner of most of the farm. I didn't know he was anywhere on the farm and there he was on a tractor, bushhogging the field.

I immediately became angry. I immediately felt cheated. I immediately felt guilt. I immediately felt failure. I immediately felt a gut-wrenching, aching sadness for the absence of my husband.

But as usual, I clenched my jaw and gritted my teeth as I slowed the four wheeler beside the tractor. After a minute of letting him know that Conner was hunting (the noise of the tractor would have spoiled any hunting had Conner still been in his stand), I drove toward my son's hunting spot, which isn't even his own stand. He has been using his brother's stand and we are reminded of that every conversation they have about it. I literally have forgotten a million times (Widow Brain) that it is a stand Mike and I bought Tristan some years back for Christmas. I need to buy Conner his own. That makes me angry; Mike should have bought Conner one too. Oh but that's right, he died instead.

So anyway, Conner and I began our walk through the woods and soon my dad arrived. I explained to Dad what Conner had explained to me and then on my walk back to the four wheeler, I turned to look behind me and saw two men standing by thw tractor. Neither was my husband. And that is overwhelming.

I raced home on the four wheeler, leaving Conner and my dad to track the deer, to start cooking dinner. Conner had requested deer meat from last year'a harvest. I had a good cry while at the house by myself but then Dad and Conner arrived (no deer was found). Dad began asking how things were going and I literally fell apart. It was one of those can't breathe, can't stand on my own kind of cries. My dad held me up and I let loose what I've been holding in for so long.

You see, I try my best every single day to be "strong". That's what people expect. That's what makes society feel comfortable. That's what keeps people from thinking they need to send me to an asylum. I have to be strong. For my son, for my students and staff, for my family and friends, for everyone and everything. I have so much responsibility riding on my shoulders that I don't have the time to cry. I don't have the time to stop the busyness of life or the business of life and have a complete breakdown. But sometimes against all of my own will, Widow Thinking comes in and takes over. And it doesn't matter what else is going on outside of myself, I lose control.

Widow Thinking brings guilt. I feel guilty for having to sell most of the farm. Widow Thinking brings failure. I feel like I am failing my husband exponentially by not being able to keep the 1200 acre farm (his lifelong dream) running myself. Widow Thinking brings anger. There isn't enough Internet space to list all that makes me angry anymore. Widow Thinking brings sadness unexplainable; loneliness unfathomable; longing unimaginable. And I live with Widow Thinking every single day. I just can't act like it.

No one understands unless he or she is living it. We can't explain it or will it to go away. So have patience; hug us when we have our breakdowns; listen as we rant; tell us you're so sorry. Don't tell us what you think will fix it for us; don't look at us like we're crazy; don't walk away because you aren't strong enough to handle seeing us like this. It is a part of us.

Be gentle and kind today. You never know what internal battle is being fought behind the smile.

I LOVE and miss you more than words, baby. NFAxI...
#stillhis
Love,
Veronica

A Different World...

Early morning cups of coffee, 

sitting one love across from the other.  

Feet touching on the edges of the couches

where they meet in the corner.

Moments of conversation and sideways grins

while sips of warm black liquid are taken.

A hand reaching over to touch the other

ever so gently and warmly.

A cute giggle out of such a burly

man when something funny is said.

Whispers into the pillow late at night

while the rest of the world sleeps.

Moments of silence between two souls who

look deep into the other's eyes.

Understanding of a love like no other when

not one word has to be spoken to know.

Youth fading into middle-age, wrinkles and 

extra pounds coming.

But loving just as much as the day they first met

over a phone call on an October evening.

Date nights spent staring into each other's eyes

as much as the teenagers around them.

Midnight snuggles on cold winter nights

when they should be sleeping instead.

Long talks of dreams and plans as cows graze 

in the fields below and the trees dance.

Plans and hopes and promises made to withstand

all tests of time.

A head gently tilted to rest on a strong shoulder

that makes her feel safe every day.

They were in love.

She was safe.

They had each other.

Her son had a daddy.

Her heart had its other half.

Life was complete.  

The world was as it should be.

It's a Different World...

Early morning cups of coffee taken alone

while she stares at his picture and flag on the mantle.

Feet curled in under the blanket while she feels

cold in the loneliness of her home.

Silence remains, and speaks stronger than any 

giggle or conversation they used to share.

Her hand is alone, empty of his, her wedding ring

changed sizes and fingers, but on the same hand.

A tear instead of a giggle, at the memory of 

something funny he used to say.

Whispers into the pillow late at night,

begging for peace and mercy from God.

Her eyes stay closed as she squeezes them tight

trying to block out the pain that keeps her awake.

She still knows there will never be a love

like theirs was.

Her youth is still fading and she feels more aged,

more wrinkled, and weary and heavy-laden.

And she loves him still just as much as she did

on that phone call one October evening.

Date nights are now just her and their son,

watching dads and kids and trying not to.

Midnight wakings because she dreams of him,

when she should be sleeping.

She doesn't talk about dreams anymore

knowing it will do her no good. 

She is afraid to have any kind of hopes or dreams

anymore; she can't let go of the old ones.

She misses his shoulder to lean on, she misses

feeling safe and protected.

She is still in love with a ghost.

She doesn't feel safe anymore.

She has no one who understands. 

No one to talk to.

Laugh with.

Love with.

Hold onto.

Promise the world to.

Her son struggles daily.

And she can't fix it.

She can't take it all back.

She can't carry it alone.

But she has to.

So she prays.

and she prays...

and she prays...

And she is grateful.

Grateful to friends.

To family.

But she is still alone.

At the end of the day.

When she climbs into bed.

When she picks up the phone to dial.

She is alone.

Her other half is gone.

Her best friend is gone.

Her knight in shining armor is gone.

And so is her heart.

Please don't ever judge a widow or widower, or a child without a parent.  I have a friend who was widowed several years ago.  I apologized to her tonight for not being there for her in her early days all those years ago.  I never understood all the thoughts and demons she has fought all these years. Not until they became my constant companions as well.  

I miss him.  More than my family can understand.  More than my friends and co-workers can understand. More than even I can understand at times.  

Life has to move forward, but no one realizes how truly difficult it is to accept that truth.  

I just miss him.  So. Much.  

I will now, forever, and always be #stillhis...

I love you and miss you baby.  I hope you feel my love all the way to Heaven.