THE BENDS

POST 8

Shhhhhhh. Do you hear that? No. That’s how it feels most every day. I don’t hear him coming through the door. I don’t hear that badass truck roll up and shut down. I don’t hear him finishing his walk into the house on the phone with somebody chatting about nothing or they called to ask him a question about cattle and then they end up chatting about nothing —until he says, “Well, I just walked in and My Linda’s got my toddy made… I told you so”. I don’t hear him telling me what a great job I did on the yard or the house looks good Linda. I don’t hear him yelling at whoever Tucker Carlson has on tonight and disagrees with then looking at me telling me “How smart Tucker is“. I don’t hear the clink of the ice or him pretend rattling the glass at me to have another one. I don’t hear him saying “How about one more?” or “You wanna have a half or go to bed?”. I don’t hear the crickets sing as we sit in the dark on the porch until the wee hours of the morning talking about the most random of things. Once we discussed the connection between one astronaut and his connection to God. How the astronaut used space and his experience to actually prove the existence of God. We talked so long about so many things… so many times. I don’t hear Fleetwood Mac on the record player or Charlie Pride while we dance in the kitchen at 2 am. I don’t hear the shower running just before he calls it a day. I don’t hear him come to bed meeting with his nightly gummies I’d laid out for him… always more than two. I don’t hear him saying how much he loved those things. I don’t hear him taking a drink of his water I’ve poured for him by the bed because inevitably someone would call early in the morning and he’d have cotton mouth just waking up :). I don’t hear him telling me as he climbed into bed… “My Linda takes such good care of me”. I don’t hear him snoring… that man could snore. He was a freight train! But it never kept me awake. I don’t hear him wake up often through the night and tell me that he loves me. I think he told me he loved me more during the night than even during the day. Every. Time. He. Woke. Up. Even if he was just turning over… whether he knew I was awake or not. “I love you Linda”. Among the many things he did well, making me feel loved was the number one. I feel certain anyone he knew would say the same. I don’t hear him making me coffee in the morning. I don’t hear Black Betty fire up anymore in the mornings.

I don’t know what I am doing. I feel so stupid. I think that writing helps. Until it doesn’t. I think that being productive helps, until it doesn’t. I think that jumping in the rushing water of reality with my friends and family who have managed to keep up with the flow will help, until the undertow takes me down and that didn’t help. I cannot explain this misery to those who have not experienced it. I don’t have to explain it to those who have. I know people want so badly to understand and help but there just simply is no way to convey knowledge of something that has not become a reality to someone else. It is like asking someone to read something written in Chinese that does not even know one letter in the Chinese alphabet- as if I even know whether or not the Chinese language even has an alphabet. That’s how complicated it is. I think people want life to continue on as it always has before. That is what we all want. But it will never, ever be the same again for us. Nobody likes change. No one wants it. Especially like this. But it cannot be undone. The change has happened. It is over now. From the before to the after things will be different. It is how we proceed from here that will matter now… at least for a while. Everything in life is TEMPORARY. The biggest misconception in life that we as humans have is that nothing has to ever change when inevitably that is all life ever is doing… changing. Minute by minute. Moment by moment. We are lucky when things are running along smoothly and we don’t notice the small changes occurring in our lives. Like the wrinkle that is deepening between our eyes because we squint that way. Or the way you may go to a restaurant not realizing that the next time you take a notion to go, they have closed and it is never again to be a place to make a memory. Or how you spent your last Christmas at Mamaw and Papaw’s house because this summer your Papaw will pass suddenly from a heart attack at 84. We don’t realize that every single day of our lives, something is changing. It is a blessing I suppose. Would we grieve daily over these things if we knew? No. Because it is not possible to properly grieve something until it has come to pass. It is human nature, perhaps a gift God has given to us. I have come to look back over my life and take a glance at the times that have faded away without this true realization until much later. Like the last Christmas I spent at my grandparent’s house. I am utterly bewildered by it really. How stupid and fortunate we are as humans to have the capacity to skip along through life without the full realization of the changes we are facing daily. What is the alternative? Ponder the thoughts so viciously that we miss the present joy? That would be ridiculous. I guess the best we can do is our best to take each moment and day with gratitude and not take for granted the incredible times we do get to experience.

But what now? It’s the small changes that we can so easily ignore. It’s when you are at the center of your own world and THE thing you have prayed for never to happen has happened that you find yourself in oblivion. It was such a huge explosion that the ripple has touched lives so many fold from your own. Just as the ripple began it shall end as well. And just as it was YOUR world that began the ripple, it will be YOUR world left in the deep when all of the tides have quieted again and life moved on above while you are still trying to find the surface. Your family and friends will want to pull you from the depths as quickly as they can to save you from this darkness and cold. Let me give you a small insight to this process my friends.

Everyone’s lives must go on. It is what it is, no? If you are part of the ripple, you will feel the undulation of the sea beneath you. You will feel the disruption of the universe. If you are near the center, you will likely suffer damage from the blow. If you are further out but have fragile material aboard…i.e. your friendship was so big that even the smallest wave will throw it overboard and you, too, are in a mess. Regardless of the damage, place on the ocean or cargo you are carrying, ultimately the swell will recede and you will continue on with your activities of daily living. It doesn’t mean it will be easy. It doesn’t mean you won’t have adjustments to make. Life will force you onward. Your heart will never be the same but your life maybe can return to a state of what you knew as “normal”. When your boat was the target of the destruction and you have found yourself in the cold, dark depths of the sea you are going to have somewhat of a different outcome. Life as you knew it daily is over. It is! Let’s face it. We can try to do the same things as before but how can they really be the same with one half missing? Can a bicycle ride the same with one wheel? Can a plane fly with one wing? Could you even stand your coffee with half the grounds you are used to?? (If you drink coffee like Carleigh and I do then the answer to that is a HARD NO! Honestly, just throw it away. Come to think of it… if you cook your steak too done- just throw it away too 🙂 ) So if we are still on the bottom of our sea, no matter what speed we rise… we must do it at our own pace. My brother is a diver. I know a little something about the bends from him- and nursing. I know that rising too quickly can be permanently debilitating or even lethal. Think of us that way. The best you can do is offer us oxygen on the way up. There is little you can do and the littlest things you think don’t matter, well… they matter more than you could imagine. You cannot expect that we will rise to the surface as quickly as you or anyone else. We cannot jump to the surface to take your oxygen… it doesn’t work that way. You will have to dive deep to carry it to them then yourself return to the surface. So when you think that you must do something BIG to help, rethink that. If it is only a breath…it is still giving us hope. I have several people in my life that I am INSANELY lucky to be able to depend on to give me those little puffs of O2. You might think that words are just words and that they are insignificant. You could not be more wrong. When I hear these people say to me, “You are doing a great job” or “that’s amazing” or “I am so proud of you” my hope ignites and I feel so good to be recognized for the small kicks to the top. REALLY. A text. A note. A facebook message. Drop a sammich at their door and leave a note then a text saying- “I left you a sammy”. It takes such little effort. Because what feels like little effort to you makes us feel we have accomplished something. But what you must understand is that you cannot force us to the top. You cannot pull us up any quicker than our bodies will allow. You cannot right this wrong. You cannot undo the done. But you can give us breaths. No expectations. No demands. Never what it is that you think is best- unless,of course, we ask. Let them lead and vehemently reinforce that you recognize their efforts by responding with the easiest of words. “I’m proud of you, You are amazing, You can do it”. It matters. Tremendously. It matters. Do your best to endure. Endure that your life must move forward while your friend is still under the water. Let them know that you will be near when they do resurface again. Our most difficult thought is that when we do ever pop out of the deep, we will look around to find an empty sea. That everyone has floated on. That no one believed we would ever resurface and therefore, left. Just drop us a little plop every now and again to let us know you will be around. No matter how long it takes. And then let us continue our slow ascent. I think it took me years to be able to tolerate being in a crowd of people after losing my Jake. I mean to say a crowd of anyone. Family. Direct family. Just being in a crowd of even my immediate family drew my attention to the obvious missing elephant. So be patient with your friends who cannot yet rejoin the race with you. And whatever you do… do not take it personally. There is so much happening inside the mind of the griever. Realizing you are the odd man out this time. Realizing that your husband is not taking care of the bill, you are on a check for one. See? There are thoughts there you can’t possibly imagine. And don’t persecute yourself for not understanding those thoughts. Most certainly don’t judge your friend for their odd behavior or lack of interest in things. It is ok. They will not drown. If they do, it is not for your lack of love or effort. This is a deep ocean. For some it is much deeper than others. There is absolutely no comprehension of ones own depth-we cannot even fathom at what depth we are- we were dropped in unprepared and unexpectedly. All you can do is carry floaties along daily. One day they’re gonna need them. For the time, they just need the breaths you can spare. Just when we think we are about to hit the surface, our tanks become overwhelmingly heavy and we are engulfed again by the depths. You cannot pull them up. You can only send a breath of hope. It matters. That is all… that matters.

Peace be with you today. Peace to those of you offering the breaths. Find the joy in this moment. Even if it hurts.

JHW