My Forever Memories of You- adult version

I’m so sorry for your pain. Whether you just lost a child, your spouse, a parent, a sibling, or a dear friend; you probably feel as though your whole world has collapsed. You fear you will never be the same. You’re right. You won’t be. As you work through the most difficult challenge you may ever face, may you grow in peace and hope as you recover from your heartbreak. It can be a very difficult and lonely climb up out of the deep abyss of grief. You may wonder if you can ever survive the pain. The death of a loved one cuts deep into your soul. I know. My husband died at the age of 37, leaving me behind with four children to raise by myself.
Around the time of Steve’s death, there was a story on national television which I identified with. There were Siamese twin baby girls whose bodies were joined together from the chest to a leg. When one turned to reach for a toy, the other followed in perfect synchronization. They were separate individuals, yet they were one. Watching the videos of their first two years of life, I noticed the love in their eyes as they glanced at one another, sharing a language and bond no one else could understand. Their parents couldn’t begin to imagine them apart.
When they were two years old, their doctors decided they were ready to be surgically separated. The operation saved one twin’s life, but the other sister died. The parents and doctors told the interviewer how worried they were for the surviving twin. The once-lively little girl moped around looking for her other half, not knowing how to live without her. The little girl wouldn’t eat or talk. No one knew how her deep grief would affect her recovery from such an intensive surgery.
I felt her pain. It was my own. Steve and I had spent 22 years of life together. We started dating at 15 years old and never had any other serious boyfriend or girlfriend. After high school, we couldn’t wait to get married and start our life together. That life included four children, working side-by-side in a business, and facing a terminal illness together.
We enjoyed being a team. We could read each other’s thoughts and met every trial and joy together. When Steve became increasingly ill, we faced insurmountable physical, emotional and financial challenges. We dealt with them truly connected in our very souls.
When he died, it seemed I had been cut apart with no anesthesia for the pain. A huge bleeding wound remained where my husband once stood by my side. I looked for him, grieving his absence, not knowing how I could ever go on in this life without him. I knew I would never be the same. I’m not.
The Lord healed those deep wounds I thought would never quit bleeding, and then led me to counsel others in grief for over 20 years now. Your wounds will also heal. There will always be a deep scar to remind you of the eternal love for your loved one. You will also comfort others with a depth of compassion the unscarred cannot. That scar serves as a permanent reminder to cherish each moment and person in our life.
There is no way to get away from the pain; but grieving with hope means trusting the Lord to get you through the gut-wrenching trauma of being torn apart from the one you love. Don’t be afraid. As you work through all your overwhelming emotions with God’s help, may you discover an ever-deepening relationship with Him that will more than fill the huge vacuum left in your heart.
What happened to the little surviving Siamese twin? It was kind of strange. I finally got to the point in my life where I was healing from my grief. Several years later, I saw a follow-up report on her. (I happened to be sitting next to the man who I would re-marry…but that’s a whole new story.) The little girl had undergone more surgeries, extensive treatments and therapy to reconstruct her body. She had been fitted with a prosthetic leg since she had shared legs with her twin. She was giddily sprinting around looking for adventure, her face glowing with excitement. She had undergone some intense healing of her own! I’m sure she will always think of her twin as she goes on with her life. The scars will always be there to prove they were once joined together physically…and will be forever joined in spirit.
Someday there will be a tremendous reunion when those twins embrace once again in Heaven. Someday, we will all be reunited with our Lord and our loved ones. It will be GLORIOUS! In the meantime, we still have more life to live here, until it’s our time to go. Our journey begins with God helping us through the intense grief in front of us. This book has been bathed in prayer for you. Use it. Write in it. Pray in it. The life in front of you can seem hopeless and dark without your loved one. Take this book with you as you travel through this dark valley. I will try to help you along the way. However, God is the One who can help you do the impossible- go through your grief and have an even deeper richer life in front of you.
If God can heal that little girl (and me) from our wounds, He will surely be there to help you recover, as well. Go ahead and grieve- but grieve with hope.