Four Weeks

It is morning, and the dogs have been emptied and fed, the routine that gets me out of bed every morning.  It's funny, I've been getting up much earlier now than I have in years, mostly because I seem to wake up and don't need to worry about waking Gar in the hours that he's finally sleeping.  Four weeks ago today, I got up, went through the normal morning routine, showered, got dressed and kissed my husband good-bye as I left for the business of the day.  A pretty typical summer Saturday, one of the last few before bowling started again.  The plans were to go shopping with the girls, come home, clean, do a little W/ELCA work, then have Annie over for dinner and a movie.  It didn't quite work out that way.

One of the problems I've been having in this process is revisiting that day.  When I came home and found Gar, it was shock and horror, the emotions that followed were even worse; anger, despair, fear, wanting my mother and father, disbelief, anger, fear.  At first, I could not cry, then the tears would not stop.  I remember Kari shaking as she was on the phone with 911, her poor body was shaking so hard that she hurt the next day.  I must have been shaking too, because I had body aches all over the next day too.  I don't remember a lot of details, but sometimes, the raw emotions hit me in the face as I walk out the door and stand in that space where I was locked in the grief.  I do remember at one point thinking about having a drink, to make it all go away.  I'm glad that I had that thought, because God in God's goodness reminded me how proud Gar was of my sobriety, and how it would not honor Gar's memory to begin drinking again.  Even after over 27 years of sobriety, those thoughts still come, but I thank God for my sobriety.  I remember worrying about the girls and how it would be for them.  I also remember the people who were there for me, holding me, helping me, praying for me; Judy Rath, Dick and Myrlette, Brenda, Pastor Brian, Jane Peters, the kids and grandkids, Gar's sisters and brother.  I was surrounded by love and support, yet so alone.  I also remember being angry at God, I remember being unable to pray, yet I remember being surrounded by God's love.  The dichotomy of emotions was overwhelming. 

I know that as I move forward in my life, my memories will begin to fade, yet I do not really want them to.  I know that I will go forward with life, alone, yet not alone.  So I stop, I pray and I give thanks for 30 years with Gar and the blessings, such as my children, that have come from that.