For years I hated the new year. Each new year took me into another year without my husband , Terry. Truthfully, I wasn’t a fan of Thanksgiving or Christmas either. The holidays were just a reminder of what I had lost. For 10 years, I just survived the holiday months.
However, grief has taken a different role the last 9 years. I can now relate to the last chapter of Job:
“After Job had prayed for his friends, the Lord restored his fortunes and gave him twice as much as he had before. The Lord blessed the latter part of Job’s life more than the former part. He had fourteen thousand sheep, six thousand camels, a thousand yoke of oxen and a thousand donkeys. And he also had seven sons and three daughters.” Job 42:10, 12-13 NIV
I now live in a blended family. My son and daughter have married & added a grandson. I am blessed with my “not the daughter” and her husband and son. And, I have gained a new husband, 3 kids and their spouses and 4 grandchildren. Life is full and busy. Love abounds.
I understand how Job might have felt. I still grieve the life that might have been. There are still seasons when memories of Terry overtake me and the tears flow. I will carry that grief forever as a part of me. Grief doesn’t have an expiration date. It doesn’t go away. Time isn’t the magic healer of grief. The scars of grieve remain for life.
As unwelcome as grief can be, it has taught me much. I am a more compassionate person. I’m more thoughtful with what I say to others that suffer losses. I hold my family closer and treasure each moment. I understand 1 Thessalonians 4:13b more than ever: “do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope.” I grieve with the hope of eternity. I grieve knowing God’s plan is perfect. Grief doesn’t mean a lack of faith. Rather great grief is the result of great love.
As I look forward to the new year of 2025. I don’t know what it will bring. I look forward to living and learning and (I hope) laughter and joy.
This time of year, brings so many memories and feelings to the forefront. I love the fall themes: pumpkins, scarecrows & falling leaves. Even though it’s still very hot and muggy, there have been a few hints at the cooler weather that is on its way.
Next week is the 8th anniversary of my marriage to Tim. A little less than a month later, I will observe the 36th anniversary of my first marriage. This year, will mark 18 years without my husband of 18 years. It’s an odd feeling to realize that Terry has been gone as long as we were married.
Each of these anniversaries carries it’s own emotions. I am so grateful to have been blessed with 2 awesome husbands. As I look back, I have few regrets. There are however, things I wish I had done the first 8 years I was married to Terry.
I wish I had “read the room” a little better. There were a lot of family dynamics that I just didn’t understand. I viewed my in-laws through my own family experiences. It took a long time to understand and accept the way Terry’s view of marriage/family was shaped by his relationship with his parents. When we were first dating, we talked about being from similar backgrounds. Truthfully, the only similarities were 1) our parents were still married and 2) we both grew up in a Southern Baptist Church.
I wish I known more about ways of communicating early in our marriage. Growing up, my dad would say “If you have a chance, maybe you could . . .” I knew that this wasn’t really a suggestion and that he would be upset if it wasn’t done when he got home. So, I used this same method with Terry. The problem was, he also had his own communication training. His response to any request was “I’ll try.” For years, we when back and forth on things. I would make “suggestions” and he would “try”. Terry’s family screamed and threw stuff to make a point. I shut down when the voices were raised. We were both frustrated. I had to learn to state what I needed and he had to learn to be intentional.
I wish I had let go of my expectations sooner. In my twenties, I had my whole life ahead of me and I was certain I could handle it all. I was a women of spreadsheets and goals. And, I loved and married a dreamer. He had big dreams. He could write and create and I would get caught up in the hopes and dreams. And then, I would get angry when the execution of those dreams didn’t happen as planned. I wasted a lot of time being mad. When I finally took a moment to readjust my expectations, our marriage took a huge leap forward. Other people noticed the difference. I had to learn to support the dreamer that I loved by grounding our marriage in reality.
I wish I had been louder in my appreciation of Terry. He was a great man and a super dad. We made the decision early in our marriage that he would be the stay-at-home parent. He took a lot of grief from others, especially our families. He was viewed as “unable” to hold a job when the reality was this was our choice. He was deemed a failure by many. Those that didn’t know him assumed he was lazy or inept. Nothing was further from the truth. Terry was creative. He wrote plays and our church children’s worship curriculum. He loved being on the stage and could act and sing. He created back grounds for the children’s area that were phenomenal. The biggest compliment he received was many years after his death. Our son made the choice to leave a lucrative position to work from home. He told me “I want to be the dad to my son that my dad was to me!”
My current marriage has benefited greatly from these experiences. There were still some growing pains, but I came into this marriage with a clearer view of how hard marriage can be. Marriage in your 50’s is very different from marriage in your 20’s. Marriage with adult children has it’s own challenges, as well.
If I could give anyone in the first decade of marriage any advice, this would be it:
Find your own way to communicate. Men and women do not communicate in the same way. EVER. Yelling, curse words, door slamming are not effective. Find ways to make your needs known without being aggressive or demanding. Remember to say “I love you!” and “Thank You” and “Please”.
Learn to accept and appreciate your spouse’s contributions. Is getting things done “MY” way really the only outcome? If I constantly redo or criticize how my spouse does things (laundry, cleaning, family time), my spouse will eventually stop trying. Then what have I accomplished, really.
Perfection may be the goal, but it’s not usually reality. And, your views of what is perfect may not intersect with those of your spouse. Relax and let go on the minor things. Pick a few non-negotiables and drop the rest. The chore list may need to be abbreviated. Personal down time may need to be planned into the week. Find the balance so you don’t start resenting each other for what is demanded and/or not done.
Stop using the words “always” and “never” as in “You ALWAYS want to play games” or “You NEVER clean the house”.
Leave time for romance and each other. That sounds easy. But money is sometimes tight. When the kids are small, there is never enough time and/or energy. Even if you don’t feel romantic, make the effort. Go out once a month. If nothing else, pawn the kids off on the grandparents/friends and then go home and chill for a few hours. Speak up if you need a date night.
Do not hesitate to seek counseling. A third party can often point out the blind spots you each have. Going to counselling is not a sign of failure. On the contrary, it’s an indication that you intend to succeed.
Most of all, keep remembering WHY you married this person. The very things that are driving you nuts now, may be the things that were attractive in the beginning.
Marriage is a challenge. It takes every ounce of energy on some days. And, it is worth every moment of angst and joy.
I am blessed to have a 2nd chance with my blended family. I have learned to never take a moment for granted.
We are in the midst of planning my daughter’s wedding. She’s picked her dress and the colors. The bridesmaids and groomsmen have been asked. The venue and date have been booked. We are working on the decorations, guest lists, menus and other details for her dream day. But there is one element that will be missing and there’s nothing that can be done. Her daddy will not be there to walk her down the aisle.
The apple of her daddy’s eye, my Gracie had Terry wrapped around her little finger. He doted on her. My son loves to tell the story of his “favorite day”. Normally, if there was a difference in what Zac or Gracie wanted, Gracie was known to come out ahead. And, she had this little refrain that she would sing quietly to her brother “I always get my way. I always get my way.” On this day, she must have been a little louder and her dad heard the sing-song tune. That was the day that Zac got to pick everything they did. He got a pick of any treats. That was the day Terry realized how easily Gracie could manipulate him. She was daddy’s little girl.
Gracie was fourteen when her dad died. She’s lived longer without him than he was on this earth. Both Zac and Gracie have tattoos to honor their dad. Zac’s is a cross with Terry’s name and dates under it. Gracie’s is a brightly colored sugar skull owl. Terry embraced a phrase from the Radio Music Theatre in Houston: “Cute as a little baby owl!” A stuffed toy owl sat on the dash of his truck. This toy was known to find its way onto the stage when Terry was involved in a skit at church. You never knew where you might see it. He would howl with laughter when it was discovered. The owl has become our symbol for Terry.
So, as we plan this wedding, I keep thinking about all the things Terry would be doing. I try to find subtle ways to include his memory in the event. And, I have a charm for her bridal bouquet with a picture of Terry and Gracie sitting on my mom’s sofa. Gracie was in elementary school at the time. Terry may not physically walk her down the aisle, but he will be there as I walk her to the altar. On each table during the reception, there will be a small owl charm. Most won’t know why, but those of us that loved Terry will. Gracie loves brunch (just like her dad) and her wedding cake will not be as much cake as it will be waffles. This day will be filled with laughter and love and a few quirky moments. The daughter of Terry Benson would have to have those. And, there will be a few tears as we remember and celebrate.
This November, when my beautiful red head walks down the aisle to her new husband, I suspect I will hear Terry’s voice say “She’s just as cute as a little baby owl” and maybe a little sing-song child’s voice chanting “I always get my way. I always get my way.”
“Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen.”
Matthew 6:9-13 KJV
I didn’t truly learn the essence prayer until August, 1978. I had been a praying person for much of my life. I prayed often: at church, before a big test, when I really wanted something, at night, before “some” meals. I thought I had a handle on it. You bowed your head, used the “church” words and bargained with God. My first week on the SFA campus, I was all alone. For the first time, I experienced truly talking (and listening) to God.
Later, I would learn even more about prayer. During a BSU retreat, Len Sehested spoke and challenged me about my prayer life. Using The Lord’s Prayer, she guided us through the ways of praying. I discovered that I was more interested in “asking” than “praising”. It changed my prayer life.
During my darkest times, I found that I didn’t really want to pray. I wanted to scream. And, I did! I ranted, cried, begged, accused and (if I’m honest) bargained. I discovered that my prayers, my conversations with God, can be honest and raw. I’ve yet to be struck down for expressing my true feelings and thoughts. My prayer life grew.
Today, when I cannot sleep, I pray for my kids and their families, for requests from friends and church family. God will often bring to mind a specific need. I have the privilege of leading a zoom prayer time each week as well as praying for requests from our church each Sunday. My involvement in ministry has changed. I no longer stand in front of the congregation to lead worship; I now worship and intercede for my church family through prayer.
In case you’ve missed it, my faith is an important part of my life. And prayer is a huge part of it all. I don’t like to be called religious. Religion is to faith what ketchup is to French fries. Religion alone is not very satisfying. But, Faith stands on its own. And, prayer is the salt that we all want.
If prayer is not part of your life, I would encourage you to try it. There aren’t many rules. It’s just talking to God, honestly. After years of reading about prayer, I still find my self bargaining at times. There are still times that I wonder if my prayers matter. But time and time again, I return to the scriptures and my talks with God.
I think one of my favorite Christmas memories is from 1982. That was my first Christmas totally on my own. I had moved to Houston for my first “grown-up” job. This was the first Christmas that I purchased all my Christmas gifts with my own money. I loved shopping for the perfect gift for each family member. And what was even better? I didn’t have to limit myself to just one gift. I set my own budget and made my choices. It was great!
My next Christmas memory is from 1988, the first Christmas that I didn’t spend with my parents. It was the 2nd Christmas after Terry and I were married. I was pregnant with our son and we spent that Christmas in Houston. We were serving part-time in a church north of Houston and Christmas fell on a Sunday that year. The church leadership decided that we should have our normal Sunday School and Church service that Sunday as well as a Christmas Eve service on Saturday night. We spent weekends in a drab little house next to the church. The furniture was old, the bed uncomfortable. Our tree, gifts and dog were all in our apartment back in Houston. After the Christmas Eve service, Terry and I went back to our little weekend house. While he prepared spaghetti for supper, I went into the bedroom and cried. I was homesick and (if I’m honest) a little hurt by the lack of consideration from our church. After some discussion, we loaded up the spaghetti and headed back to Houston for the night. We got back to our apartment about 11:00pm. For our Christmas gifts, we had agreed to a dollar limit and decided to fill a stocking for each other. So, late that night, we feasted on spaghetti and opened our stocking gifts. We drove the 2 hours back to the little church in time for Sunday School the next morning. I was so grateful for the tenderness and understanding of my husband that Christmas. At was the greatest gift.
It’s hard to pick a favorite Christmas with my Kids. I loved shopping for them and seeing their excitement. I think I enjoyed even more, the days when we would take them shopping for each other. I will always remember the excitement of looking for the “best” gift for a sibling or a parent. I believe we taught them that giving is what Christmas is all about.
I find it disappointing when I see the joy of Christmas giving transformed into the greed of Christmas getting. When I hear comments like “No one asked me what I wanted” or “I don’t want some cheap thing, I want a REAL gift” my heart sinks a little. I don’t think it’s wrong to ask for input on Christmas gifts. But, I think it’s also acceptable to be creative and give from the heart. A handmade gift tells such a different story than a mass produced one. Have I gotten things I didn’t need or want? Yes. And, I try to find something to treasure in each gift, even if it’s only the thought.
Too many of us get caught in the trap of chr”I”stmas where “I” is the most important part of the word. When that happens, it’s all about ME:
“I” want (fill in the blank)
“I” need to be central this holiday season
“I” will not be inconvenienced.
“I” don’t care what you need unless it works for me.
“I” deserve to be happy.
The holiday season can be very difficult and life experiences often exaggerate issues.
The family that is missing a key member for the holidays, grieves for the loss of the person as well as many customs. You may not be able to carry on all of your traditions. Why not try something new this year. Don’t be afraid to be original. After my husband died, I didn’t want to celebrate. It took a few years to face Christmas with any type of joyful spirit. When we were ready, we changed a few things. Our tree was no longer traditional. It was white and decorated in pink, purple, orange and lime green. We used flamingos and boas to liven it up. We still added a Santa figure to Terry’s collection and a house to his village. But, we found new ways to move forward.
Blended families may being a competitiveness to the holidays. There may be a desire to provide the “best” experience. And, when adult children marry it adds another level of stress to the holidays. There are expectations of family traditions from every branch of the family. It can be exhausting trying to live up to it all. Young families need to set their own traditions and accept that not everything will remain the same. We celebrate the Sunday before Thanksgiving and Christmas with our children and their significant others. That’s frees up the actual holiday for whatever the individual family groups need/want to do. I’ll spend some “Mumzy time” with my grandson as well.
Too often, the holidays are a stress on the budget. You may feel the need to spend money you really don’t have and as a result, go into debt. I think I forget the lesson from the story of the Little Drummer Boy. He gave what he had. He played his drum. It didn’t matter that there were greater gifts being given. He gave what he had. When we give the best that we can, it shouldn’t have to live up to anything else. It is the BEST.
When “I” become the center of the holiday season, I miss the reason of the season.
When “I” stress about living up to the expectations that others set for me (or my gifts), I ignore the true gift that we celebrate each Christmas.
When “I” focus on what makes ME happy, I don’t have time to see what others need or have to offer.
I need to keep the holidays in focus. I need to remember that it is CHRiSTMAS and I have a very small part of it. The joy of Christmas is in celebrating the birth of Christ, the greatest gift EVER!
There were sheepherders camping in the neighborhood. They had set night watches over their sheep. Suddenly, God’s angel stood among them and God’s glory blazed around them. They were terrified. The angel said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here to announce a great and joyful event that is meant for everybody, worldwide: A Savior has just been born in David’s town, a Savior who is Messiah and Master. This is what you’re to look for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and lying in a manger.”
At once the angel was joined by a huge angelic choir singing God’s praises:
Glory to God in the heavenly heights, Peace to all men and women on earth who please him.
As the angel choir withdrew into heaven, the sheepherders talked it over. “Let’s get over to Bethlehem as fast as we can and see for ourselves what God has revealed to us.” They left, running, and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in the manger. Seeing was believing. They told everyone they met what the angels had said about this child. All who heard the sheepherders were impressed.
Mary kept all these things to herself, holding them dear, deep within herself. The sheepherders returned and let loose, glorifying and praising God for everything they had heard and seen. It turned out exactly the way they’d been told!
My husband knows I love fresh flowers. Nearly every week, he fills my crystal vase
with flowers. Often he selects roses, but we’ve had many different types. I truly enjoy the various blooms. Last week, I heard our girls discussing the dozen
red roses in the vase that sat on top of the kitchen counter. One said “Don’t waste money on flowers, save
it for jewelry.” They all seemed to
agree on the concept. It’s a sentiment I’ve heard through the
years.
If you know Tim, you know he is “thrifty”. He doesn’t buy extravagant bouquets. My weekly flowers come from the selection at
the grocery store. They are not
expensive, but that doesn’t change their beauty or their meaning to me.
I appreciate good jewelry.
My wedding ring is a symbol of the endless, eternal love we share. Tim designed it to represent two broken
people coming together to become one. It
is precious to me. But, as much as I
love the meaning behind this ring, there is so much more to building a lasting,
successful marriage. Marriage is all
about daily sacrifice. Every day, I commit
myself to making my marriage better.
Sometimes that means I don’t get what I want. Sometimes that means I step back and put my
husband’s needs ahead of my own.
Sometimes, we both make sacrifices in the best interest of our family. There are days that aren’t spectacular and in
fact there are more ordinary days than extraordinary in this day to day life.
A vase filled with flowers remind me how fragile
relationships can be. Flowers are beautiful. If I keep them watered
and protected, I will get days and maybe weeks of beauty. Still, they fade. New flowers must be added to the vase to
continue to enjoy them. If they are
neglected, the water turns green and fungus begins to grow. Before too long, the vase is stained and
marred forever from neglect and disuse.
Marriages are just as fragile. I have
to pay attention and care about the details.
I cannot assume that the first days of romance will effortlessly continue. I need to renew my commitment to my marriage,
to my romance every day. Just as fresh
flowers can refill the vase, fresh attention replenishes a marriage. Are there days when I don’t really want to
invest in my relationship? Of course there are.
Sometimes, I have the RIGHT to be upset, depressed or angry. But, I cannot allow those moments to turn
into days or weeks of selfish indignation.
At some point, I have to pull up my big-girl panties and decide what is
most important. The world will tell me that I deserve to be
happy. The flowers remind me that happiness
can be fleeting. But, the joy I find in my marriage, much like the crystal vase
that holds and provides for the flowers, will stand strong and ready.
I hope my husband never tires of giving me flowers. For every flower reminds me of our love: past, present and future.
Have you ever found yourself filled with loneliness while you are in a group of people? You look around at those surrounding you, but you don’t connect. You may not have anything in common with others in the room. Or, there may be underlying tensions that keep you separated. This kind of loneliness is difficult at best and isolating at worst.
As I have been thinking about the Christmas story, I began to consider the journey that Mary and Joseph undertook to get to Bethlehem. Usually it is depicted as a solitary and lonely journey: just the two of them traveling on a deserted road. But, this year it occurred to me that they were probably not all alone on that road. The entire Roman Empire was traveling to ancestral hometowns.
About that time Caesar Augustus ordered a census to be taken throughout the Empire. This was the first census when Quirinius was governor of Syria. Everyone had to travel to his own ancestral hometown to be accounted for. So Joseph went from the Galilean town of Nazareth up to Bethlehem in Judah, David’s town, for the census. As a descendant of David, he had to go there. He went with Mary, his fiancée, who was pregnant. Luke 2: 1-5 MSG
It’s quite possible that Mary and Joseph were traveling on a very busy road. There were very likely other relatives making the same trek. But unlike other journey’s that would be made as part of a large family caravan, Mary and Joseph were very alone on this journey. The reason is clear: Mary was Joseph’s pregnant fiancee, not his wife. Her pregnancy was an opportunity for gossip and judgement and maybe some shame and scorn from family members. We don’t really know details, but Joseph’s original reaction to Mary’s news gives us some insight into how this pregnancy was perceived.
The birth of Jesus took place like this. His mother, Mary, was engaged to be married to Joseph. Before they came to the marriage bed, Joseph discovered she was pregnant. (It was by the Holy Spirit, but he didn’t know that.) Joseph, chagrined but noble, determined to take care of things quietly so Mary would not be disgraced. Matthew 1: 18-19 MSG
As I think about Christmas in 2018, I wonder, how many of us are surrounded by people but still feel totally isolated? There are many things that can contribute to the isolation. The normal tensions that exist within a family unit may result in a feeling of detachment. New family situations that result from death, divorce or a even new marriage may greatly influence the family temperament. A death in the family will make traditions either too precious to forget or too painful to observe. Each family member will react with different expectations or preferences. Melding or ignoring the new needs may create a strong resentment within the family. Divorce always stresses and changes the family dynamic and as a result the holiday season. When anyone within the family gets married, old traditions are stretched and strained. Now there are multiple family traditions and locations to be considered and blended. Seemingly small things like what food will be served, special church service attendance, multiple family gatherings as well the cost of gifts can become contentious. Hurt feelings and blame placing only contribute to feelings of isolation.
As I approached this 2018 holiday season, it was too easy to dread the upcoming holidays. This is just my fourth Christmas as part of a blended family that includes my husband, and our five adult children, two daughters-in-love and a precious grandson. We are still figuring out how to build our own family traditions. Trying to coordinate our blended family plans with their own extended family events can be overwhelming. I love looking for that perfect gift for each person in my family and it gets more and more difficult the older they get. And this year, I determined to enjoy this holiday time. This year, I will give full attention to my family and not be overtaken with self doubt and feelings of failure when I do not meet the expectations of others. I cannot keep everyone happy. That is a choice made by each individual.
This Year, I will focus on the celebration of the birth of my Savior.
“There were sheepherders camping in the neighborhood. They had set night watches over their sheep. Suddenly, God’s angel stood among them and God’s glory blazed around them. They were terrified.
The angel said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here to announce a great and joyful event that is meant for everybody, worldwide: A Savior has just been born in David’s town, a Savior who is Messiah and Master. This is what you’re to look for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and lying in a manger.”
At once the angel was joined by a huge angelic choir singing God’s praises:Glory to God in the heavenly heights,Peace to all men and women on earth who please him.
As the angel choir withdrew into heaven, the sheepherders talked it over. “Let’s get over to Bethlehem as fast as we can and see for ourselves what God has revealed to us.” They left, running, and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in the manger. Seeing was believing. They told everyone they met what the angels had said about this child. All who heard the sheepherders were impressed.
Mary kept all these things to herself, holding them dear, deep within herself. The sheepherders returned and let loose, glorifying and praising God for everything they had heard and seen. It turned out exactly the way they’d been told! Luke 2:8-20 MSG
I admit it, I struggle during the holiday season. There was at time when I loved getting ready for Thanksgiving. Planning the perfect meal. Visiting with family and friends. We even went to the big parade in downtown Houston. I think I was more excited than my kids about Christmas. I loved the excitement and the fun of the holidays. It was a wonderful time. There are many wonderful memories.
But grief changed all of that. The idea of planning and cooking became a chore. So, we started eating out. It took a few years before I could face putting up a Christmas Tree and even then it was totally different from what had been our “norm”. Instead of red & green, it was pink, purple and lime green. We used feather boas instead of tinsel. It was as far away as I could get from the memories of Christmas’ Past. I couldn’t seem to entirely enjoy the holidays because I was haunted by what “might have been”.
Three years ago, our holidays changed once again. We now have a blended family. We now must consider all five of our kids and their spouses/significant others and their schedules. They have other interests and families to consider. It’s easy to get caught up in the frenzy of fighting for time. And the holiday events become competitions instead of joyful celebrations. Quality family time is lost in the quest to get to every house and every meal.
Honestly, my response can be much like the toys on the Island of Misfit Toys from “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”: feeling sorry for myself and expecting to miss the fun and excitement again this year. It’s too easy to feel that no one cares. It’s very convenient to focus on “ME” instead of looking at the larger picture.
I’m really trying this year. I want to be excited about the holidays. I don’t want family quarrels to overshadow what should be a joyful time. I don’t need to feel like I’m placing 2nd (or 3rd or 4th) in a competition that doesn’t even exist. I’m trying to accept that perfection should not be my goal this year. And, I’m focusing on building special memories wherever and whenever I am able. It may be a quiet meal with just my husband on Thanksgiving Day or a bigger, busier meal with most of the crew over the weekend. Both, are times to create memories.
I know there will still be tender places. Putting up the holiday village that belonged to my late husband or unwrapping his Santa collection will be bitter-sweet. I’ve already got a new Santa Ornament to add. Pulling out the old ornaments from the early days of our children will unlock some emotions, both good and bad. I’m on the lookout for a 2018 snow globe to add to the collection I began in 2015 on our first Christmas as Mr. & Mrs. Douglas. And, I’m prepared to accept the critique of “too much purple” on the tress.
This year, the big tree will go up early (at least for me!) I’m working on handmade angel ornaments for a smaller tree. I’ve already planned a Holiday dinner for my co-workers and I look forward to sharing our home and hospitality. Christmas gifts won’t be flashy, but I hope that they meet a need for the recipients. We will be baking goodies and sharing with the neighbors (and trying not to over indulge in the sweets.) There will be carols and hot chocolate and I will try to be present in the moments as they occur.
This year, I will strive to give thanks for the numerous blessing in my life: my family, my job, my home, my church and so many more that I tend to take for granted. I will try to remember that the excitement of Christmas is not about the gifts we give, but about the love that was gifted to us through the birth of Christ. I will remember that time spent with our friends and family is precious and not waste it wishing for something different. This year, I will accept the emotions as they arrive, deal with them and move forward.
This year, I will find the Joy in MY holiday season.
Today is a day of remembrance for me. Thirty-one years ago, I married my first husband, Terry Benson. The memories of that day are happy if a little bittersweet. In sixteen days, we will note the 13th anniversary of Terry’s death.
Terry and I loved each other very much. We laughed, cried, fought and loved a lot over the 18 years we had together. We watched our kids grow into teens and enjoyed their activities both together and separately. I loved him so much that I struggled with how to let him go
If you have never experienced widowhood, it’s hard to explain the emotions that go with it. There’s the obvious loss of the person. But, there is also a loss of identity. I had been part of a couple for so long and it was hard to be “just me” again. I was not longer Terry’s wife. So, I took refuge in being Zac and Gracie’s mom. I missed all of the things that I had come to take for granted. No longer would Terry drive me to work and drop me off at the front door. He was no longer there to pack my lunch. When I got really irritated at work, I couldn’t call and hear him tell me it would be okay. When the kids activities conflicted, I had to choose which one would have to go it alone or figure out how to be two places at once. When the car broke down or had a flat, I now had to deal with it. I had to figure out what bills had to be paid and when. And, I had to figure out how to sleep at night without the sound of his breathing.
I managed the life of a widow for almost 10 years. I thought I was pretty well adjusted and capable as a single adult. I had even learned to enjoy life again. And then love came knocking. Love in my fifties was a bit different that in my twenties. We both had a history and the baggage that goes with that. We had different experiences from our previous marriages and quite honestly, different expectations because of that. And, we had five children who all had an opinion.
As I admitted my love for Tim, my new husband, I had to question how I could love both men so deeply. I struggled with feeling like I was cheating on Terry. Even though he had been dead for almost a decade, my heart still ached to hear his voice. I had promised to love him until “death do us part” and I had yet to release my heart from that promise. As well as I thought I had handled my grief, there were lots of things that I had never addressed. I had buried my depression with activity. I was so accustomed to “putting on a brave face” that I almost forgot what it was to be honest about my feelings. So, ten years later, I was in counseling trying to sift through all of these emotions.
I am still amazed at how deeply I love now. Tim is very gracious and we share many sweet memories of Terry together. I am so grateful that he is not threatened by my memories. God allowed me the double blessing of loving completely not once, but twice. I will never forget the life that Terry and I shared. I will tell our grandson, Joshua Terry about his Papa Terry when he’s older. And I will continue to be grateful for both of my husbands. God has truly blessed me in so many ways
“But those who trust in the LORD will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40:31
In 2005, my husband died. It was unexpected and it was devastating to me. Many well-meaning people shared scripture that were meant to be comforting. But, at the time, I didn’t find much comfort or even any semblance of truth in many of the verses shared.
“So I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten,” Joel 2:25a
“then the LORD your God will restore your fortunes and have compassion on you and gather you again from all the nations where he scattered you.” Deuteronomy 30:3
“God blessed Job’s later life even more than his earlier life. He ended up with fourteen thousand sheep, six thousand camels, one thousand teams of oxen, and one thousand donkeys. He also had seven sons and three daughters.” Job 42:12-13
I didn’t understand how some unknown thing in the future would ever replace what I had lost when my husband died. How could the years we lost together be restored? My husband was dead. Nothing could ever replace him in my heart. Nothing new would replace what I had lost. I couldn’t accept that any of these promises was meant for me, personally. I was in pain. I grieved the loss of my life as I knew it and as I had dreamed that it would be.
But now, I see. I have a new marriage and with it a new extended family. My new husband is not a replacement for the one I lost. I will always grieve that death in some way. One doesn’t love completely and then forget that relationship. But, this new marriage has taught me that I can love again, that my life did not end. I have been given a chance to experience a deeply passionate love, once again.
This marriage is different from the one I began in my twenties. This marriage is founded on a long-standing friendship and maturity that I lacked 30 years ago. I can love more completely because I understand the fragility of life and relationships. I have learned to give all now, because I do not know what tomorrow holds in this life. I try not to miss a chance to say “I Love you” for I have determined to never again regret words not spoken. I cherish the quiet breaks, the silly moments, the busy times and even the heated, uncomfortable times; for they represent all the things that form a lasting and loving relationship. I vow to speak positively about my husband and to honor him in my words and actions. I am aware how important it is for my all of my children (both through birth and marriage) to have a model of stability to use as a pattern in their own lives.
This marriage of almost 3 years will never replace the 18 years of my first marriage. This marriage is new. This marriage is a blessing of restoration and joy. I can truly say the God has blessed my later life even more than my earlier life. He has restored my joy.
“You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights, Each tear entered in your ledger, each ache written in your book.
God, you did everything you promised, and I’m thanking you with all my heart. You pulled me from the brink of death, my feet from the cliff-edge of doom. Now I stroll at leisure with God in the sunlit fields of life.”
Melissa's Musings 