Home Sweet Home?

Mom always used to say, “Going away is fun, but coming home again is even better.”

Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz said, “There’s no place like home.”

And Helen Rowland put it this way: “Home is any four walls that enclose the right person.”

Louisa, Birgitta and I drove the last leg of our road trip toward home today. Once we’d made the last gas stop, the Highlander was like a horse racing for its barn. “Pedal to the metal, Midge,” Louisa said as I took the wheel. “Let’s get there!”

On this trip we journeyed 3000+ miles and finally came within 100 from home when my heart began to ache again like a case of the nerves plus stomach butterflies and nausea rolled into one. Arriving home is gratifying, but it also means resuming my long, slow grieving process. Taking a trip with all its planning, packing, road adventures and time with those we love let’s a new widow set aside her sorrow for a time. It is waiting for her, though, when she gets home.

One of the tasks I was chipping away at before we left on this trip was cataloging my past blog posts by date, title and topic. A couple of publishers have expressed interest, and my natural bent toward disorganization has made it difficult to answer their questions. The blog list will help them and also me, but in order to complete it, I’ve had to re-read each post. Although I came to the task with optimism, once I dipped back into the blogs that described Nate’s cancer, I lost myself in sobbing and reading that went on for nearly two hours. I managed to get through 29 days-worth, recording the data I needed, but it was as if my heart was watching Nate’s torturous story unfold again, this time in fast-forward, leaving me unable to catch my breath or control my emotions.

Now I’m back at that same desk, on that same computer, knowing I need to resume that same task. I don’t want to, but that’s grieving. On, off, up, down, getting swamped, coming up for air. I don’t want to do it, but if I don’t, it’ll never finish.

As Mom said, coming home after a trip is sweet, but for someone with a fresh loss, its bittersweet at best. Arriving home means having had to say goodbye all along the way and also having to adjust to being alone again. I was made well aware of that when I realized I was talking to Jack about the heat being off and the refrigerator being bare. It should have been Nate, but a dog was the best I could do. My four walls no longer “enclose the right person.” Sometimes I get worn out from the work of it all, because grieving is both draining and discouraging.

God knows, however, exactly what all grievers need in terms of relief from the effort. He’ll never let the emotional swamping go on too long without providing new air. After I dumped out my Florida suitcase tonight, I left it open to begin tossing things in for the next trip, this one to England after Hans and Katy’s twins arrive. So although these next days may be dotted with tears and sobs as I complete the blog list, new air is coming in the form of another journey.

And when I return home after that one, maybe it won’t feel so bittersweet but will just be good old “Home Sweet Home.”

“Rescue me from the mire, do not let me sink. Deliver me from… the deep waters. Do not let the floodwaters engulf me or the depths swallow me up.” (Psalm 69:14-15)

6 thoughts on “Home Sweet Home?

  1. Dear Margaret, I can so identify with your blog tonight. I am 18 months into my own grief journey and your description of grief as draining and discouraging is so right on. Your blog has been such a support to me and some of my ”grief friends” and I look forward to it everyday. God bless you as you continue to share Nate’s and your story with the rest of us. It is truly such a blessing.

  2. Dear Margaret – God is so good to weave times away from your home to experience laughter, joy and new life with your family and friends. I’m so excited that you are working with publishers to put your blog into print. I will take five copies, please, and I’ll drive over to get them autographed! (ha) I look forward each day to see what God has put on your heart to share with your readers. I’ll be praying for you as you get ready to meet the twins soon and to see what you write about those experiences. Hugs!

  3. Thank you for the picture of your house. I’ve been trying to picture it, and now I have a picture. I will remember you each day as you and Jack live each day and night and all they bring.

  4. Dear Margaret, Thanks to my friend Norma Stewart, I have started to read your blogs. This one really hit me. It was one year ago yesterday that the doctor came into the hospital room and said to my husband, “I have some really, really bad news. You have 4 to 6 months to live.” So yesterday I got out our journal and read what both John and I had written one year ago. I read two weeks of our writings and had to stop because I was crying so hard I couldn’t see the pages. I was living it all over again. The tears came and went all day and they are back again today. I am so thankful for my grief friends. God bless you and your family.

  5. Hi Margaret,
    Very cute cottage, though I know it has lost it’s charm without Nate.
    I was wondering how you might be doing as you submit those early blogs to Rush detailing again the last days with Nate- your blog today tells me.
    “Lord, give Margaret strength and grace in measure of her need.”
    Love,
    Terry

  6. Dear Margaret; I ache for you as you grieve, reliving those days and hours of Nate’s journey. I am sure that what you are doing through your tears will be a blessing to so many.
    Your cottage does look cute and welcoming, but our real homes are not here–but in heaven where not only will you see Nate but we who believe will see the Lord face to face! Hallelujah! You are in His hand!