The trouble with losing a marriage partner is that half of the whole is then missing. We’re usually drawn to a mate who’s got what we lack, which is, of course, the reason for most marital spatting. But maturity and years bring a willingness to let go of unrealistic expectations of each other in categories where the mate isn’t skilled to produce good work.
One Saturday back when we had five children, I had a homemaker’s meltdown. Nate usually worked on Saturdays, preparing for the week to come, but pressures had built at home, and I asked him for help. I spent the week compiling chore lists for the children and for him. My goal was to pass out a list and its accompanying job supplies to each person, then exit to run errands. Later I’d return to find every task completed.
While jangling my keys, I delivered the grand finale to my meltdown. “You people don’t help enough around here, and the place is falling down around us. It’s time to be responsible. Just do what’s on your list and get it done all the way.” Then I left.
One of Nate’s assignments was to hang a clothing bar in a closet for coats and out-of-season clothes. I left him with everything he needed and hoped for the best. Knowing Nate’s skill-set didn’t include a mechanical bent, I wondered how he’d do.
When I returned, the kids, their lists completed child-style, had scattered into the neighborhood, and Nate was cleaning the kitchen. He was glad to see me and said, “The bar is up, and the clothes are hanging on it.” Like an excited kid he said, “Come and look!”
He was right about the bar being up and the clothes hanging on it, but my eye shot to the back of the closet where large nail holes dotted every half inch on the wall, left to right, like a computer period-key gone wild. He smiled and said, “I had a little trouble finding the studs, but it’s up there good and solid.”
That dotted line was my object lesson for the duration: don’t ask Nate (or anyone) to do a job he’s not capable of doing well. The truth is, hanging that clothes bar was on my skill-list, not his. I knew about that when I asked him, so I got what I deserved. Just before we moved last summer, we spackled the holes and painted the wall. And he was right. That bar was still up there good and solid. He’d finished it “all the way.”
Today was a tough grieving day for me because of the truth of that story. Nate’s natural skill-set, working on all numbers-related projects, handling insurance companies, playing phone tag, remembering when payments are due, researching everything, planning ahead, has been removed from our partnership, and I’m needing it, needing him. After spending four hours on the phone with multiple insurance companies and enduring a parade of wait-times, I’d failed on several counts. But moving to internet projects, I hoped to do better.
Concentrating hard to pay bills on line by myself for the first time, I failed at that, too, unable to make it “stick”. I stood up in front of the computer and burst into tears, longing to have Nate back. I cried off my mascara, then put some more on, but in a few minutes had cried it off again.
I told myself that people who never marry somehow manage to figure out how to do things outside their natural expertise, so I should, too. The problem is that in marriage, partners learn to lean on each other for opposite abilities. Although Nate and I hadn’t mastered that, after forty years, we’d come a long way.
My marriage ended when Nate died. His ended, too, but he’s not missing me like I’m missing him. I guess the conclusion should be that when someone is sorely missed, the relationship must have been a good one. I know I’ll never be the same without him.
When life ends, love doesn’t. And the raw truth is, when a spouse dies, love only continues to grow.
“Christ, who is the head of his body, the church, makes the whole body fit together perfectly. As each part does its own special work, it helps the other parts grow, so that the whole body is healthy and growing and full of love.” (Ephesians 4:15b-16)
I am praying that especially today, you will feel the comforting arms of Jesus, whispering words of assurance. May you hear the Holy Spirit guiding you through each difficult financial and other task which Nate used to take care of for you. “Lord, open the right doors to the right people for handling all this stuff. Clear those long waiting lines (in person or on the phone). Give Margaret the understanding that is needed for each task ahead of her.” We love you Margaret and wish you didn’t have to walk on this difficult path of grief.
Margaret, you will learn all these new tasks, and in a few more months,you will be a Pro. The Lord puts wonderful new ideas into our minds, and all is well. Healing hugs over these many miles.
As always, thanks for being so open about what you’re going through. You’re amazing. Love you!
Sitting here in Accra with the equatorial rain just crying away, and after reading your words, I am too. That love keeps growing even when the loved one is gone is heart-breaking. How it can possibly help you that others are grieving with you and for you, I can’t imnagine but God says it does, so it must be true. After Terry died, I bought mascara in the Jumbo packs… but even “waterproof” was no match for the high saline content of those tears. (Maybe that is why God keeps them in a bottle…?) Praying for you today in a special way, with much love and gratitude for what flows out of your grief, that replenishes God-thirsty souls.
Margaret. Can,t say that l know how you feel but l do know that God understands and cares how you feel.May He wrap His arms of love around you today and comfort your sorrowing heart. We love you and truly feel your pain and sorrow. Your amazing at how you write all these blogs. so wonderful to read each day and yet so painful at times. we are praying for you and wish Gods grace on you. Love ya Barb & Wally
Hi Margaret,
Your comments today made me think of something C.S. Lewis said in the movie Shadowlands as his wife was dying of cancer. I can’t quote it verbatim, but it was along the lines of meaningful relationships being like two sides of the same coin- that the pain later was part and parcel to the joy now. To not know the pain of such separation by death would indicate that there was also no joy along the way, nothing to miss so to speak. We risk “well-being” in some ways when we marry and have children, when we venture into deep relationships of any kind, as untimely loss permanently alters the landscape of our souls. Still we do it, always with a little nagging fear even as we press forward toward greater intimacy, of how will we manage when that person is gone.
Your coin has flipped, still carrying the imprint of the other side. You are doing so well in finding out how you will manage without Nate.
“Lord, send Your help. Keeper of Margaret, You neither sleep nor slumber and You will not allow her foot to slip. Be her shade in the harsh light of life. Protect her from all evil. Guard her going out and her coming in now and forever. Amen.” Psalm 121
Love,
Terry
I feel for you in all the small and big stuff you have to “learn” in the middle of your grief. You are so brave to expose your feelings and shortcomings on this blog. Thank you, it’s so much to learn. I live with my dear husband who has another form of canser than Nate had, he hopefully will have few more years here on earth, but I try to prepare for the times your are going through. It’s a real comfort to read your blog everyday, it’s usually the first mail I open. Your (unknown) Norwegian friend, Brit.
Dear Margaret, Love and blessings on you today as you figure out those practical matters. I am completely in your camp when it comes to frustration with numbers and related life-chores. Once again you’ve reminded me to be grateful for all the ways my husband makes my life sweeter, simpler…how good God is to match us with spouses who are strong where we’re weak. How good He is that His strength is made perfect in our weakness. I’m praying for God to meet you where you’re lacking in a very creative, practical way! *hug*
Margaret, thanks again for your blog. As I read your post today, I realized how much growing I have to do in my own marriage, which is just two years old. We all have so much to learn, and I think your blog is helping many people in untold ways. In turn, as you continue to grieve, we all pray for you daily.
Margaret,
There are so many areas that I struggle doing life singlely. I understand your frustration especially in the bills, insurance and financial end. It is so reassuring to just know that even when we don’t have the skills, energy, know-how, patience or endurance that God is enough. Just as our kids completely depended upon us when they can’t manage we can turn to Him the same way.
I love you.
Margaret,
No words, just prayers for you to the One who feels your pain and wipes all tears from our eyes. Peace to you and and your children today.
Margaret–thanks for being so articulate about this day! wow how difficult for you! I can relate only in that when I think about handling the financial stuff I might be left with, I shutter. But I know you will get through this too–with God’s help–your anchor. You may even look back and wonder what the fuss was. I hope so!! Patience is still the operative word here. Love you!
Precious Midge….I agree with everyone of the above blogs…and I just got online for the first time since Fri. so a little behind…but -so true ..”you will never be the same”..since Nate’s passed…you will, however, become wiser, stronger, more creative and adept in taking care of small things…and I can say from experience, “when you need help..don’t let pride get in the way and not ask for it…or call out to Jesus and tell Him you need Him and right now”…He truly is..an ever-present help in time of need.Patience and perserverance, sweet lady….You’re really doing very well, ya know..!! My Bill, has been gone 15 yrs, the 12th of this month…and I still have times of really missing having a partner…but I have chosen my path for many reasons and do not regret a moment of it. Since Jesus regns in your heart..follow it’s leading…thanks again, for sharing your thoughts.
Love you.