Just Another Day

I went to church this morning. It was freezing cold and I left after an hour with my shoulders and hands hurting. I had Mike wait to start the car so I could let the 90+ degrees seep into my bones. It took at least 15 minutes for the skin on my upper arms to actually feel warm to the touch. I didn't remember to take a shawl. I usually always take a sweater or shawl.

I came home and had lunch with my children... not all together. Mike first and then I took him home. When I got back Dave, Becca and Sarah were here and eating their lunch. Mike lives about 15 minutes away. I had a problem and had to go to bed. I took a bit of a nap and then Sarah and I played Starfall. We had not done it together in a long time. She plays with her mother and now can recognize all her letters and is learning to read the words.

They left and I've been trying to get through the rest of the day. It's hell.

On the way to take Mike home I saw a young man, probably late teens, get off a church bus and walk across the road carrying his Bible. I do not know why in that moment I saw Jerry but I did. I didn't get a good look at the boy. He was walking with a young woman and they were talking, he facing away. There was no resemblance to Jerry, except maybe the thick dark hair and the gait. But there was a rush of intense memories that began to roll through my mind and I was almost not able to drive. I got Mike home but when I got home I just had to go to bed. I've not been able to stop them. I tried watching a movie but an expression on the man's face in the movie sent me back over the percipice. I lay curled in a fetal position for about 20 minutes screaming in a pillow. God, how insane.

I was told by someone before Jerry died that I was a fighter. I don't know what he was seeing when he said it. But I'm tired of it. I've lost every battle. I've carried wounded off the field and doctored their wounds and got them back on their feet. I've urged others on and watched their victories. I've staggered along dragging myself because there was no one to carry me. But I'm tired. I'm bleeding to death and I stand in a barren wasteland in tatters, alone. No one carries me. No one binds my wounds. No one shoulders my burdens. I surrender. I don't want to fight anymore.

Don't tell me to pray or call someone or find some interest. I've done all that. I thought a while ago that perhaps I should pick up the phone and call some of the people I know and say, "Hi, I was just calling to check on you and see if you were wondering how I was?"

Someone called a while back and wanted me to try and comfort someone else who had lost their spouse. I wanted to laugh. I don't have any comfort to give. What do I say to her? "Honey don't expect anyone to give a tin whistle about you." "Don't expect to hear from your so called friends." "I hope you have family!" I told this person to make sure they call and call and call. They won't. . . unless they want something in return.

So, here I kneel on a stony field amidst the remains of 52 years of battles.... all lost. No victories here. No glory. No banners or parades. No cheers from the sidelines. Just broken bones and defeat. And today I lay down my weapons.

I remember weeping over my blog-friend, Jenn's blog where she described her loss of faith after the suicide of her 17 year-old daughter. I remember praying for her, hoping she could find herself again, find her faith and her desire to live. How very arrogant of me.

I realized today when you look death in the face, you don't see anything but darkness. There is no light in it. And you can't look away. It is so terrible that you are fixated by it. You see nothing but an empty blackness. Even your faith gets swallowed up in that blackness. Everything is sucked in and disappears.

In the worst times of my life I think I've held onto my faith. I've always believed God was listening and he cared. I've always loved him. I do not remember ever not. I want to believe I still do.

Today, I've asked all the questions I know to ask. I've prayed all the prayers I know to pray. I've said all the things I know to say. And the darkness echos.