There’s nothing like being ill to make you stop, take a deep breath, and force you to take a few self- reflective moments. I’ve been running non-stop all summer, and with the stress of going back home next weekend, and all the details that includes, the living-like-a-young-20-something mentality I’ve been enjoying has come to a screeching halt. However, as I’ve just recently learned, it’s a good thing.
I think it was not long after my last post that I decided to check out the “prayer room” I’d seen signs for on the long walk to my Pentagon office. I needed a place of peace, where I could hang my head and internally call out to my maker, “what should I do?” It was a small, rectangular, basic room with a small table(?) stand(?) alter(?) in front and a few chairs lining each wall. I wasn’t sure of the protocol, so I shut the door most of the way, and tried to pray. Noting a stack of pamphlets called “Care Notes” on a small table near the door, I got up to inspect them. Almost all of them focused on grief and healing. Hmmm, I thought. I probably needed these a few months ago, but I’ll grab a few. Feeling a little awkward when a man in a wheelchair knocked on the door and asked me a question I didn’t know the answer to, I quickly walked back to my office, holding the pamphlets close so no one could see them. I dropped them on my floor by the bed when I got home, thinking I’d read them later.
Well, today is later all right. One of the three pamphlets especially brought tears to my eyes. It’s titled “Losing Someone Close” by Dr. Robert DiGiulio. I was amazed at how many of the things the author described about grieving, I had experienced after Don Queco’s death. It made me feel like, hey, somebody really does know what it’s like. All three pamphlets (the other two were titled “Giving Yourself Permission to Grieve” and “Overcoming Loneliness After Loss”) shared a similar message- you can’t suppress your feelings by busying yourself, nor is it healthy to do so, and it’s okay to grieve and the feelings should be embraced. I especially liked a couple of quotes in the first pamphlet:
“Be open to the pain of your broken heart. God enters through its brokenness.” – Karen Katafiasz, Grief Therapy
“If only someone whom I respected had sat me down after Martin died and said, ‘Now Lynn, bereavement is a wound. It’s like being very, very badly hurt… You will grieve, and that is painful. And your grief will have many stages, but all of them will be healing. Little by little, you will be whole again. And you will be a stronger person. Just as a broken bone knits and becomes stronger than before, so will you.” – Lynn Caine, Widow
As I read this last one, it suddenly hit me that I am healing. Have I thought about Don Queco this summer? You betcha. Have I shed tears? Yep. But then I read the following:
“Tears are not a sign of weakness but a sign of strength. Our tears testify to our love. And loving calls for great courage, for in loving we always risk getting hurt.” –Mildred Tengbom, Letting Tears Bring Healing and Renewal
So remember the guy I mentioned last time who didn’t run away when I hit an emotional bump in the road? Turns out, he stuck it out all summer. It’s funny; he mentioned at the beginning, there’s nothing like someone new to help you forget the pain of losing someone. I’ve never been quite sure about that sentiment; because I always felt it’s better to make sure you’ve healed so you can be your best self for the next one and not add pain onto pain if this one doesn’t work out either. But you know what? He was right.
While reading these pamphlets, I realized the broken pieces of my heart have been healing. It’s been a slow and painful process, with an occasional bout of sadness and tears, sometimes deep and physically painful. But it doesn't hurt as much anymore. I even let my guard down enough to actually cry in front of Edward (name I’m using for “the guy”, which, I’ll have to talk about why Twilight references have come to mind when thinking of the two of us in a later post). That’s something I haven’t been able to do since I was married. That was a huge step for me. I’ve told him things I don’t tell hardly anyone, and I’d wager I’ve told him things I haven’t told anyone, in fact. All the while, Edward has been building me, molding me, and shaping me. He’s done so by not just putting duct tape on my wounds, but by actually sealing them up. I feel bad because I think I’ve put him through the ringer. But time and again, he didn’t leave my side, he’s always been honest with me (both about good and bad things), and he’s proven my long held mantra false- that I’m not lovable. It’s not true.
Wow. It just really hit me. It’s not true! Edward has seen, in person, the dark side of me. He’s seen my flaws, inside and out. But he still loves me. And I know he’s dreading our separation as much as I am when we have to go home in less than a week. True, we’re both in agreement that based on some fundamental differences, long term, we don’t think we’d be the best match. On the other hand, the hopeless romantic in me says, who knows? I have yet to find a guy who has really seen me (think Avatar, “I see you”), and hasn’t left my side, hasn’t given up on me. I realized a couple weeks ago that Edward has done for me, what I’ve done for so many others, including Don Queco. I’ve been loyal, given them all I had, and saw the good in them, and loved them for the good things, and not focused on the bad. I never gave up on them when things got rough. I’ve done that for Edward. And for once, Edward has done that for me. In doing so, not only have I healed a great deal from losing Don Queco, but every other guy who has broken my heart.
Wow. Talk about a summer of change, new beginnings, and growth, right? I almost feel like a new person. I hope and pray I don’t lose all the confidence and healing I’ve gained when I go back home. In light of soon having to go through another loss however, although it will be much different this time, as neither Edward nor I want this to end, but it’s necessary, I’ll share the final quote from one of the Care Notes Pamphlets:
“But if the while
I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored
And sorrows end.”
-William Shakespeare
And now, with confidence, I can say, I forgive you, Don Queco, I forgive you.
And to Edward, I will never forget you, I will always love you, just as I will Don Queco, but you have given me a life-changing gift. Thank you.
