I want to cry; in fact, I become so close to crying that I can taste the saltiness of my tears, but the relief tears can bring escapes me. I try to keep the tears bottled up as a treasure, so I will have plenty to relieve me when they are most needed. When they will really matter. When they will celebrate his life and honor his death.
Those who are in the act of caregiving understand this phenomenon of grief. It feels like piecemeal grieving. Here a little. There a little. And it becomes apparent the first time a "nevermore" is introduced in our lives. These eventually may include:
- nevermore will he drive the family car
- nevermore will he work to provide for our household
- nevermore will he climb up and fix the roof or mow the lawn
- nevermore will he walk unassisted, or walk at all
- nevermore will he sleep in your bed, or even in the same room or house
- nevermore will he eat your cooking, or taste his favorite casserole
- nevermore will he walk through the door of your home, and be greeted by his happy canine friend
- nevermore will he sit by you in church, and hold your hand during prayer
- nevermore will he tell stories or jokes to his grandchildren and friends
- nevermore will he say "I love you" and "forgive me" at the end of each day
- nevermore will he send his heartfelt feelings and petitions to God in prayer
- Forevermore he will sing God's praises (with the voice he always wished he had)
- Forevermore he will pray and worship with God's people (on a beautiful mountain far surpassing the ones he loved on this earth)
- Forevermore he will never be parted from or have to say good-bye to his friends (making it the best "camp meeting" he ever attended!)
When I find myself avoiding the past, consumed with the present, and dreading the future, all at the same time, there is this welcome time realm of the "forevermores" that beckons me into its loving arms and buoys me up with faith and hope.
Yes, I can bear the "nevermore's" because there is a "forevermore" that outshines them all.
4 comments:
Thank you for putting into words the feelings that caregivers struggle with. Thank you for sharing what gives us comfort. Mine is more of a never will she be able to... instead of never more and struggling with the fear of things we just don't know yet, but in many ways the feelings are the same as well as the grief. Praise God, the solution is also the same.
So true, Laura. Grief has many faces. And we caregivers know them all. But that grief is offset by the enormous joys that only we can have as well.
The grieving process is just as you say, thoughts of "never mores." Thankfully we have a God who promises to wipe every tear from our eyes. May The Lord give you strength as you go through this "never more" experience" and help you to hang on to that Great Hope that someday we will all be reunited in Christ's Kingdom.
It really helped to write this post. I hated to call it grief, but then again, what else could it be? Journalling, whether in private or otherwise, does a lot to clarify what you're going through. Highly recommend it for anyone!
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