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I miss my husband. Some days, it’s just as simple…or as complicated as that.

The early days of grief are hard. Some things don’t change, they just evolve into another aspect of grief.

All the business requirements– joint to single, married to widow, check the box– prove you were his spouse. Your mind and heart cannot accept this reality, but the world doesn’t wait.

The firsts, they come and go. You measure your progress by living through those days thinking year two will be better. You are shocked when it isn’t.

Three-and-a-half years into this journey called grief, I am finding comfort in remembering.

The memories are no longer taking me to my knees in sorrow. They are saving me from the sadness.

God’s message to me:

JOY AND GRIEF GO HAND-IN-HAND
THE SWEETEST PATH HAS BROUGHT ME HERE

I argued both thoughts in my mind UNTIL I stopped to remember.

Sometimes, it is just good to stop and let the memories flood in.

Steve invited me to go deer hunting, opening day four years ago.

Get up at 5:45. I’m a morning person, so no problem.

I put on my pretty pink sweat shirt. Steve says, “You can’t wear that. You have to wear dark.” So, I find something dark, ugly, but dark.

Dressed, I go downstairs and grab a thermos. He asks me, “What are you going to do with that?”

“Get me some coffee,” I say.

“Oh, you can’t drink coffee. The deer will smell it.”

For some reason, I didn’t know there were so many rules to hunting.

Dressed in black and coffee deprived, we settle in to wait for the sun to come up. Not long, I hear Steve whisper, “Beautiful buck” as he raises his gun.

Now, I must explain, this guest hunter has never watched a western without closing her eyes when the horse fell down, and an entire day can be ruined after seeing road kill, having never even known the victim.

Quietly, I put the binoculars down, close my eyes, and cover my ears. “Be a big girl, Kathy, or you won’t be invited back.” When nothing happens, I whisper, eyes still closed, “You gonna shoot?”

And he whispers, “Oh no, only if he’d have been a trophy deer.” I could have thrown myself on him and given him a big old kiss, but you must be quiet in the deer stand.

So I pick up the binoculars, watch the beautiful buck walk, raise his head and sniff. But he didn’t see me or smell my coffee, which I left at home. And I whispered, TODAY, YOU LIVE MR. BUCK. TODAY IS A GOOD DAY NOT TO BE A TROPHY DEER.

Could it really be that the key to grief recovery is in remembering? Remembering Who we belong to? Remembering how much He loves us? How much our husbands loved us?

How my heart warmed at this wonderful memory with Steve. I smiled and felt the sweetest comfort.

My best moments since Steve passed away have been when my focus has been on the Lord or remembering Steve.

“O taste and see that the Lord is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in Him.”
Psalm 34:8 (KJV)

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”
Romans 15:13 (NIV)

Dear Heavenly Father, we thank you for the beautiful lives You have given us and the wonderful memories we hold in our hearts of the love of our husbands and Your great faithfulness. Amen