Category Archives: The Story

But to say that I do not understand

My Life, Rants, The Story, Thought, , , ,

It has been said that I do not understand …

I am not walking in their shoes. I have not lived the moments they have lived. I do not know every recess of their heart. I can never feel the exact way that they do. Honestly, I do not want to.

But to say that I do not understand …

There were many many nights my wife, Lucenda, and I got little, if any sleep. People asked us how to pray for us. We said, “Pray for God’s Will for this child’s life.” We were told this was “the easy way out”. We were also told that we needed to claim an outcome in prayer.

We were “fostering” in hopes of adopting. Circumstances changed almost daily. For months we were uncertain of the outcome. We continued to pray the same prayer, “God’s Will for this child’s life.” Praying this pray was in no way “the easy way out.” You see, what was “best” for this child may not have been to be with us. “God’s Will” is much greater than our wants and desires. “God’s Will” is not always what we want.

Twelve months passed. The parental rights were terminated. However, it was far from over. There was a 30 day “waiting period” in case the biologicals contested or changed their minds or whatever. THAT month was almost as bad, if not worse, than the previous 12 months.

At 13 months of age, we adopted that bundle of joy. Was it an easy time? No. Did we have the “9 months of pregnancy” or the “pains of labor”? No, we had 13 months of an insane emotionally heart wrenching roller coaster.

But to say that I do not understand …

My father-in-law, who was a wonderful man, had lived a life of pain from arthritis. It was only after getting a staff infection from fixing a broken drainpipe, that we found out just what he really had. He was officially diagnosed with a very aggressive autoimmune disease. Upon discovery, my wife was tested and officially diagnosed with it also, being it was genetically passed down.

This revelation brought answers to questions we did not know we had as well as questions that could not be answered. This disease was the reason we could not have children biologically. In that, it was a blessing that this disease was not being passed down to another life to endure. We also found out this disease, at that time, relatively new in the list of discoveries, was probably more aggressive in females.

My father-in-law’s health deteriorated rather rapidly over the next 2 years until his death. Two years after that, the signs in my wife’s body were no longer “unnoticeable”. That is when things began to progress rapidly for her. No, she did not have cancer. No, we were never given a “this much longer to live” time frame. Because there was still so little known about this disease, we were “flying blindly” into each new day. Our faith in Christ kept us going each day.

But to say that I do not understand …

Everyday, her health progressively deteriorated. I lived with her every day, but I did not see it. Honestly, I did see it, as did others. We, I just did not acknowledge it. We dealt with the bad days as best we could. We moved on, one day at a time. I did, however, have death in the back of my mind. I know this, because my dreams took me there against my will often. My mind … perhaps GOD … was “preparing me” as it were of what was to come. You see, that woman was a very stubborn woman. You did not “make” her do anything. (SIDE NOTE: someone once made a very misinformed/misguided evaluation that I was “physically abusing” my wife. For those who truly knew her, laugh at this when it is brought up. If I were to have EVER hurt her, I would NOT be here to tell the story.) As it turns out, my dear wife had been in a great deal of pain that she did not share with anyone. Her body was destroying itself from within and she said nothing to anyone about it.

As I stood in that hospital room, I prayed the same prayer over my wife that we had, together, prayed over our son those years ago. I prayed “God’s Will be done”. I knew then that God’s Will may not be for my wife to stay with us here on earth. Honestly, if she had, her quality of life would have been horrible. She would have most certainly lost one of her legs. You see, her liver was full of cysts .. her kidneys, lungs, heart, and all other organs were shutting down. The disease had wreaked havoc on her body. She was “physically” beaten from the inside by an incurable, un-treatable, painfully invasive disease. I wanted her to be without pain, for she has been in pain for most of her life. I wanted her to be at peace. I wanted her to rest. Signing those papers to remove the life support … being there as the doctor “pronounced” her .. THE HARDEST MOMENT OF MY LIFE!

But to say that I do not understand ..

In all of this, there was still that boy of ours. He was 3 weeks away from turning 11 years old. PRAISE THE LORD, he gave his life to Christ just two months prior to all this mess. My wife had THAT peace in her heart. He was at a weekend camp. I had delayed having him brought to the hospital because things were happening so fast. By the time he was brought to the hospital, my wife had been “gone” for just over an hour. I had to tell my son that his mother was not sick anymore .. that she was not waking up .. that she had died .. THE HARDEST MOMENT OF MY LIFE! Watching him “process and realize” what I was saying…. It was horrible.

He wanted to see her. So, we went up to the room. That very wonderful nurse (post for a different day) had gotten my wife cleaned up. All the machines were gone. No wires, no tubes, no anything. Just my wife’s body laying there in the bed. Resting.

I wish I could have recorded the words that my son spoke. NO preacher has EVER said it more clearly than he did right there at his mother’s bedside. This young life explained the purpose and plain of God’s Will and the need for Christ … the purpose and plan of Salvation … what it truly means to be a Christian. He knew that his mother was at peace. He knew he would one day see her again in Heaven. I was so very proud of him (still am).

But to say that I do not understand ..

That was just over 5 years ago. Every day has brought new struggles and challenges into our lives. My son and I both feel the deep pangs of loss. I have regrets of things I should have said to her, or not have said. If I had “just realized” what was happening, I could have done things differently. — We cannot change the past .. no matter how much we might want to. — When I tell someone to cherish the moments you have, I do so out of experience. Do not “ignore” the signs and insist it isn’t happening. You are not in control of life. GOD, the Creator of Life, is the ONE in control. As for “Expecting Miracles” … each breath we breathe is a miracle. Seeing the sun, smelling fresh bread, hearing a child’s laughter, experiencing LOVE with/for/from another … all of these, and much more, are miracles. Cherish the miracles God has given you. Cherish the memories you make. Cherish the moments you share. Remember, God’s Will is not always easy, or without challenge. Look at what Jesus went through for us.

…end transmission..

That Fateful Night

My Life, The Story, ,

He sits on a park bench while the rain pours down. He stares blankly at the emptiness of the darkness before him. The rain serves as the tears he is to numb to shed. The rain flows like blood from the open wound in his chest. His heart has been ripped from his chest, crushed beyond recognition, and shoved back into the gaping hole with no delicacy.

The rain – freezing rain covers him … drowning him … shrouding him in despair. He is too numb to notice. Life has been taken from him… joy yanked from his life… happiness blotted out of his sight. His hands hang down … open … weak. He could not hold on. He could not protect. He could not save. He could not be the man she needed him to be.

If this was all, it was still too much. He still has to tell the boy. He has to tell his son. He has to tell his son his mother is dead.

He had not noticed the rain stopped. He never really noticed it ever started. A car stops in front of him. The boy steps out. The joy on his face cuts like a deep paper cut. The sting is extreme.

The boy is joyful to tell of his adventures at camp. To tell of the things of his day. They walk inside. They stop at the table in the abandon room. They sit. The boy is full of stories of his day at camp. The pain builds deep inside the man’s chest. The boy shows his father 3 bands and 3 clips. One of each for him, his father and his mother. The dull blade pushed deeper into the man’s chest.

The boy asked about his mother. The silence of the space is deafening. The large room has grown to unimaginable size. The air is heavy. The room is cold. The pressure builds inside the man’s chest.

He speaks.

“Mommie was very sick. The doctors tried and tried to do everything they could to help her.”

The dull knife in his chest is turning … twisting … further damaging what is left of his heart.

“Mommie went to sleep. And she did not wake up.”

This was far worse pain. This was beyond explanation. The look of realization of the boy’s face was the final blow. The indescribable grief on the boy’s face was excruciating.

They held each other so tightly; they could have crushed a thousand bricks.

The man sat there … holding his son. He could not save his wife. He could not protect his son from this grief. He sat there … having had to let go of his wife just an hour before … now he just shattered his son’s world with this news. He sat there feeling emotions he could not even name. He held his son tightly in his arms, afraid to let him go. He lost his wife and feared of losing his son.

Despair was what held the man. Despair and his son.

“Do you want to see her,” the man asked the boy. “Yes” was his only reply.

The walk to the elevator, the ride up was a blur. He pushed the button … they let him and the boy come into the ward. The ward was cold and silent. The staff was somber, respectful. Death is something they knew all too well in their work. How can they do it, the man wondered as he walked by.

—————

The room was made ready. The man followed the boy into the room.

There she lay. Still and cold and pale. That was not her. It was a cheap replica of his lovely wife. She is the most beautiful woman in the world. This could not possibly be her. There is no way this could be her. This is someone’s sick, twisted joke. This joke must end now!

The boy, his son, their son, pulls him to reality … asking why they have tape on her eye lids. He always did notice the little things and asked the questions that were blunt and deep.

He asked many questions about how she looked, and what happened. You see, it was a joke between the man and his wife … the boy, their son, would asked deep and difficult questions about life. He would most often ask his mother as they were driving down the road. It was a joke, you see, because she would often say to the man, “why can’t you get a hard question now and then?”. The man sat there holding his son beside the bed … laughing on the inside. He could hear his wife’s words. He said, in a whisper, as the boy continued to ask things … “I guess it’s my turn now.”

The boy, their son, stood there … with his father holding him … talking. He was just almost 3 weeks shy of being eleven years old. He began to speak the story of salvation. He spoke of the power of Salvation, the power of Christ’s death, burial, and resurrection.

You see, an important thing happened 2 months prior. This young life, this boy, their son, gave his heart to God. He was saved. He was baptized on a special day. A church picnic, with others being baptized. It was the man, his father, who had the blessing of baptizing the boy, their son. You see, the sweet woman left this world with the knowledge of her son’s salvation.

As the boy, their son, talked with such clarity and preciseness about salivation and the comfort in knowing his mother was no longer in pain, the man, his father, was glowing. The man looked at the body of his bride, with a very huge, proud smile on his face … he mouthed the words “That’s our son.”

—————

No, it did not rain that night. No, there was no park bench. There was only a hospital parking lot curb. It was a cold October night. The feelings, the pain, the despair was very real. There are no words that could adequately express the feelings of that night. There is no way to convey the feeling deep inside my chest. Yes, my chest. Yes, I am “that man”. I am the husband, the father of these words.

That night, I did two of the most difficult things of my life. I had to let go of my dear sweet wonderful wife. I then had to tell our amazing son she was gone.

I wish no one that pain. I wish no one would ever have to face something like this again. However, I am not foolish enough to think it will not happen to someone every again. I know it has happened many times since that night. Do I still fight with despair? Certainly. Do I still struggle with the emptiness deep inside my chest? Yes, every single day. Is this the end of the story? No. This is just the beginning of a new volume in the collection. Is there hope? Yes. There is always hope. Do I always feel the hope? No, it would be ridiculous for me to deny the feelings of hopelessness that dance around me.

Each day is a new day. Each day is a new day with new struggles, challenges and journeys. Some days are good days. Some days are not good days. Some days are downright horrible days.

My son, that boy, he is the reason I live. He is the reason I “Press On” each new day. Will I stumble? Of course I will, I am human.

… this transmission is to be continued at a later date …