A new year. The second year that will have no new memories of Dan, the second year that he will have not stepped foot into. Once again the calendar changes and shared years are pushed further into the past. The thought of another year that won’t know Daniel is once again painful. Today I reflect on our past.
These last sixteen months of Grief have been so unpredictable. Like standing in the ocean but facing shore. Not admiring the beautiful coastline. Instead standing, soaking wet, water dripping off you as your fists are clenched, you’re shaking and tense. A permanent grimace carved into your face. Standing. Waiting. Waiting for the next wave to hit. In anticipation, you’ve grounded yourself by digging your feet deep into the sands below you. It’s the last attempt to steady your body and brace for what is coming. A futile effort at best. Having no idea when it will make its entrance or how big it will be. It might be tall enough to hit you square in the back, the impact causing you to break water and go under for just an instant. It also however, could be one of those rogue waves that are big enough, strong enough, to fully devour you. You know the one, where more white is visible than blue. Each time it hits, force ruthlessly knocking the wind out of you, throwing you under to tumble uncontrollably in its wake. Once the water retreats you find yourself on all fours gasping for air, trying desperately to stand and once again, face the shore. It’s been the only constant since Daniel died, the promise of that next wave. Brutal, the only thing predictable being, its unpredictability….
My eyes were many times intently glued to Daniel. Every nodding out, misstep or slowing of his breathing, would send my heart into panic. Daniel and I’s world was a ticking bomb. At any given point something catastrophically tragic could have happened (and eventually did) due to our addiction. We had no idea what or when but nonetheless, knew something was coming our way eventually. It always seemed we were walking hand in hand in the pitch black, waiting for the ground beneath us to give out. Somehow not able to see the gaping hole nearing. We didn’t feel the cool air or hear the echo of our voices as we got closer to the nearing canyon’s edge. Always walking blind. What I would have given for a flashlight. How I wish I’d known there was no less God there, even within all those shadows we could not escape him. As I enter this new year with hope and dare I say, more joy! I know Daniel is spending another new year, made whole and dancing in the sky❤️
Psalms 139: 7-8
Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence? If I ascend into heaven, You are there; If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there.
Psalms 139:13-16
For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows right well. Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, The days fashioned for me, When as yet there were none of them.
