Never the Same

Each step I took was as if I had cement in my shoes and it was a chore to pick up one foot and put it in front of the other. It was as if numerous chains were around my feet and I could not liberate myself of them. I experienced times that it was hard to breathe, mingled with total emptiness. I had walked down this hallway with other people in the churches I had served as minister, and I still dislike the long lonely walk. One day no one will experience this long lonely walk. I would have done anything rather than walk down to this cold horrible room. I had not envisioned this part of my life until many more years from now, but I have no control over life and the situations that it brings. All I know, through what I have been promised, is that my God will never leave nor forsake me, and I am so thankful to him for that. (Hebrews 13:5)

With each step I took, I felt as if I were chocking and found it difficult to find a breath. Not as one having indigestion, but choking as if I had an obstruction in my throat. The closer I got to the doorway the more I felt as if I the walls were going to fall in. This was a real feeling and I did not like it at all. I wanted to escape this feeling, but I knew that it went along with what I was about to do. This feeling of choking was the reality of the end of life for the one I had loved for over 30 years. Would this feeling ever go away? I asked myself, "Would I ever be able to swallow freely again without this awful sensation in my throat?" No matter how strong I was supposed to be as a man, I could not hold back the tears of grief. The more I thought of our lives together the more I cried. Talking at times helped, but it really was terrible when everyone left me and I was alone. The house was empty and full of void for me and I did not know how to fix it. I realized that I cannot fix all of this. Many things in life are not fixable, but I knew that Jesus Christ could fix it. Sleep and rest seemed to be nothing I wanted or needed at this time. I could not, nor did not want to eat anything. I forced myself to eat what little I did. The more talking I did seemed to help a little. My life was a wreck. I was torn apart, and only God could put me back together again. I perhaps found that all my joy had been taken from me. I was not joyous as I once was and I felt empty at the same time. I hated feeling like this. It is almost like the optimist verses the pessimist. Is the glass half full or half empty? Well, I had feeling of both at the same time and I knew that was not at all normal, if there is anything called normal. I felt full in the fact that God loved me and poured his compassion upon me and at the same time I had feelings of being empty and dry. These dry and empty feelings came from not having my precious Wanda with me in sight. The more I did the emptier and fuller I became. Yes, I know it seems odd, but that is the feelings I have and continue to have. My "public meltdown" happened all of a sudden. I had been doing well for a few short weeks. The idea of living alone had begun to sink in, as well as making decisions on my own again, and although I did not like it I would have to live with it. This certainly was not to be expected so soon after my loss, but I could not have equipped myself for what was to come.