Remembering Dan

• Laundry on the Move

  30Apr
  Categories: Single Parenting Comments: 2

  I’m standing in the back of the U-haul with the dishwasher, washing machine, and dryer, waiting for some help when I had a funny thought.  I went over to the dryer, opened the door and sure enough, there were some clothes in there.  My Dad showed up around the corner and gave me a questioning look and I just grinned and said, “Oh, I was just doing laundry.”  Michele (a friend) perks up and says, “Just goes to show a woman’s work is never done.”  Doing laundry in the back of a U-haul?. . . just can’t get away from that laundry!

• Unloading Memories

  30Apr
  Categories: Remembering Dan Comments: 3

  I helped unload our U-haul of stuff from West Virginia today.

  “Oh look! A ladder.  That will be useful for putting those last couple of piece of drywall up on the ceiling in the dining room.  And here’s our screw gun, too.”

  “There’s Dan’s dress shoes.  They still look so new.”

  “That mattress still has a sheet on it.  It’s like a testimony to how fast our lives changed.”

  “Ouch.  That one hurts.  There is the little table Dan made for his computer so that he could work from bed while recovering from surgery.”

  “I thought he threw that car seat out!”

  “Why did we save this?”

  “I forgot the dryer was starting to rust like that.”

  “Oh! What am I going to do with all these clothes!!”

  “I know where I want to put that.”

  “That microwave is filthy!”

  Watching those pieces of our life together going past me into a life where Dan is no more, was difficult to say the least.  So many memories, so much love, so much fun and happiness . . . 

  One thing remains the same – God was part of our life then and God is part of our lives now.  He is faithful and His promises are true.  He will never leave us or forsake us.  He will provide and protect.  We have but to trust in Him.

• Last Breath

  30Apr
  Categories: Grieving, Remembering Dan Comments: 2

  4-29-09

  When I think about watching Dan take that last breath it never fails to bring the tears.  Sometimes in my mind I want to throw myself at him and scream, literally, NO! NO! NO!  Other times all I can do is whisper, Oh God!  That was all I could say almost that whole week in the hospital.  I would find a bathroom where I would slump against a wall and just cry “Oh God!  Oh God.”  Sometimes I could barely stay upright.  Even now the grief still hits and I find myself crumpling to the floor and crying “Oh God.”  And He hears me.  He sees my unbearable pain and He steps in and shoulders the load so that I can get up again and stumble a few more steps.