I feel like I’m living in a crystal ball and have the ability to predict the future. That’s because I’m thinking about last year at this time and know what happened next.
On this date, October 20, Nate was two weeks from his death on November 3. We all knew the situation was severe, but none of us knew the end would come so soon.
I’ve been reading last year’s blogs, and today we were signing Hospice papers, including the most emotional one, a living will. Our children demonstrated great strength that day when I was feeling weak, stepping forward to sign as witnesses beneath their father’s signature on the document. Could there be any more difficult task in the life of a child?
As I’ve been remembering, I’ve also looked at the giant wall calendar from 2009 on which we jotted notes about each day, kept track of Nate’s appointments and recorded the names of visitors. Surprisingly, in examining the negatives, several striking positives have emerged:
1. First of all, as we’ve read our words, new waves of appreciation for Nate have washed over all of us. That’s definitely a positive. Once someone is gone, all petty grievances disappear. It becomes easy to focus on the good, and all of us are wholeheartedly thankful for Nate, without the slightest reservation.
2. The second positive result of looking back has been a giant-sized gratitude toward God, who repeatedly pulled us out of a sea of sadness and set our feet on solid ground. When everything around us was stormy, the Lord kept us calm, and that included Nate. He showed his involvement daily and kept every scriptural promise. He didn’t stop the cancer, but he held us close throughout the ordeal, and does so still.
3. A third positive is becoming aware of the progress we’ve all made. Today we’re all veterans of grief. It’s hard work, it lasts a long time, and it involves plenty of tears. But during the past 12 months each of us has increased in our understanding of what it’s like to mourn someone we love. We’ve also learned that the process includes times of well-being and peace, side-by-side with the sorrow.
4. Because of our experience in losing Nate, all of us can commiserate with others who’ve lost their husband and father, which is positive number four. We can say, “I know how you feel” and mean it. We can offer a shoulder to cry on and experience genuine sympathy for a hurting friend.
5. A year ago, our days were packed with problems, losses and emergencies. We had no time to process what was going on or think too deeply about it. The demands of each day called for putting one foot in front of the other and getting through “just barely.” Now, though, as life has regained routine, we have the time to ponder what really happened, an important positive. Putting events into slow motion to absorb their full impact is helpful.
6. And one last positive is our stronger focus on eternity. Part of last year’s October 20th post was the detailing of a new strategy: we decided that day to start talking about heaven. I wrote, “The time has come to shine a spotlight on his brightest hope.”
It’s true none of us lives in a crystal ball, but because we know the Lord, we can accurately predict that our separation from Nate is only temporary. The future sees us together again in heaven, and focusing on that is positive indeed.
”I give [my sheep] eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand.” (John 10:28)
