Today was incredible! It started with a great group of folk coming together with me to fellowship, to reflect, and to recharge before returning to their caregiving responsibilities. We shared, we sang, we met in small groups. We found our own spaces to reflect among the many acres of a Maryland campground right off the busy Washington beltway. Who knew there could be such solitude and peace in such a congested area of the world? When the mini-retreat ended I was totally fulfilled! All of our sharing and our time of fellowship and prayer before departing totally energized me. I waved as the participants drove away, ready to spend the rest of the day and night in nature and in my beautiful sanctuary I’ve named JOY!
But out of nowhere today suddenly turned into the worst of days – because Tim isn’t here with me. It struck me almost right away as the group departed that today was Sunday. Sunday was OUR DAY… Tim and I were either watching football all day after church or packing up to come home from our beloved camping trips. But today I wasn’t packing. I’ll be here until tomorrow because it’s a holiday and that’s a great thing! BUT I’m now alone in a beautiful campground surrounded by families and friends fellowshipping together. They’re laughing and playing games, riding bikes and tailgating while watching their favorite teams on their outdoor tv on their RV. All the things Tim and I did together. I’m happy for all of them, thrilled actually… and I hope that they have many more years together of love, laughter and being together before they experience the pain I’ve felt over these past two years, including today.
Since Tim’s death Sundays have always been my worst day of the week. I don’t think I’ve ever talked or written about that fact until now. To help with my sadness I walked 6 miles today around this really awesome campground, experiencing trails and benches and water I’d not seen on previous visits here. As the sun began to set, I headed back to JOY for dinner, along the way smelling all the great food that families were cooking and sharing together. Cooking on the grill and our outdoor kitchen in our RV named Memory Maker was Tim’s favorite camping activity. Tears ran down my cheeks as I prepared and ate my salad (and no I still don’t cook).
I didn’t see this sadness coming and certainly hadn’t planned for it. A friend visited me yesterday at the campground but if I had been thinking I would have suggested they come today instead so I wouldn’t be alone. It’s amazing how emotions can go from one extreme to another in the space of a few hours, but I’ve come to realize that it’s more than ok to cry and that it’s ok to have afternoons like this.
So as this day winds down, I’m still grateful that even though I was sad for parts of today, that it was a day filled with such beauty. I’m grateful that this weekend has been amazing for me, with new friends and new discoveries that allows me to continue to grow into the person I’m still becoming without Tim. I’ll go to bed tonight proud of everything I accomplished this weekend and I’ll wake up tomorrow happy that it’s Monday!
Dearest Loretta,
I am so happy you had a great meeting with the caregivers. I know how special your relationships to those folks are, and I know what great energy and love you put into your interactions with them. I can imagine what you mean to people who are struggling with how to do what they need to do for their loved ones and what a boost and what support you give them.
Your sadness and loneliness without Tim touches my heart, and I wish I could be there to put my arms around you and listen to your memories and sit with you while you cry. While I am sad that Tim did not get to cook you dinner tonight and will not be there to hold you as you go to sleep, I still rejoice that you had Tim and he had you for all the years you were together, and I rejoice that the times you had with each other were so happy and fulfilled, that he cared for you so well and so fully that his absence brings an ache. While I would love to take away the void you feel without him, I would never do that. It is a sacred void that only fits Tim. I think in ways we don’t understand, Tim is still there with you when you feel that ache. I think he is holding you in the warmth of his love, which can’t ever die.
I hope tomorrow dawns bright and sunny, Loretta, and I hope you feel renewed by being in a beautiful place with your beautiful memories and with a love that lives on beyond death. Bless you, sweet lady, and bless Tim’s sweet memory and his love for you that endures.
Much love,
Karen
Thank you Thank you Karen!!!!! Without a doubt Tim is still here with him. I know he’s so very proud of everything that I’ve done over the last two years because we laid this foundation together!
And you’re right!! Every bit of the pain I felt today has everything to do with the life we lived together and the incredible memories we made!! Tomorrow’s a new day and I’ll be ready for it!!
My deepest thanks and much love back to you my friend!!!
Loretta, yet another poignantly and passionately beautiful reflection of your love for Tim and your loss of Tim in your life. Verily, this, for me, is your reflection of who you were and are because of Tim and how you behold yourself, now, for the past 2+ years and going forward without him in the present and in his flesh.
Who said: The second year of grieving is the hardest? As you have testified, you found that to be so. Yet what you remind me in this your sharing is that sadness can come – unbidden and undesired – in an instant and at any time through the days, weeks, months, and years. Why? Because, I think, I believe, that our losses of our greatest loves leave a space in our souls that is unfillable. As I’ve shared with you many, many times, I continue to grieve the death of my brother Wayne, and he has been dead for over 23 years.
I love you. I love Tim. I love the two of you.
I am happy that you had and are having the experience of serenity in the campground. I, too, appreciate deeply your prayer that all those you behold enjoying their family time will have many more years to do so. Yours is a prayer of deepest, greatest love that arises from the pit and pain of the experience of the greatest sacrifice.
Again, love you.
Love you too!! And of course your words made my cry! I do indeed know and understand how much you still grieve for Wayne. I didn’t sleep well at all last night but had a great walk this morning and will be packing up to leave in the next hour. I’m soooo glad I took this journey and experienced a new “revenue stream” as you and I have talked about…but I think today will be about taking care of me and recovering.. taking care of my heart that hurts!
Thanks for your words!! They definitely picked me up!
Love you