A person without a country...

Okay, that's an exaggeration, but I am feeling bereft today. I went to Robb's to pick up some things he said he wanted me to have. I knew it would be hard for me to be at his house without him there, but the minute I got into the car to go there I started crying. I steeled myself to go, kicking myself for being a coward and not going while he was still living.

I know we all process our grief in different ways, but I am baffled and angry that no one seems to be taking his death as hard as I am. Everyone is disgustingly cheerful. Oh, I have moments where I allow myself the respite of forgetting, and in those times I am able to act normal, but is there no grief in some of these people? Or is it that many of his friends are older and their experiences with death has numbed or calloused them? I don't know, but I am raw with grief. I wanted to call and ask Robb a question this morning, but there is no one on the other end of the phone.

I sat at his table which had pictures from nearly 30 years ago, with Rob sporting dark hair and beard, and those 70's style glasses that were dark tinted, graduating to clear on the bottom. It brought back memories, hints of fleeting thoughts of times and years gone by. He will never maneuver through the piles of stuff in that house again. At some time I will drive by that house and there will be another family living there. They won't have the piles, they won't have the crowded surfaces, they won't have a full garage, crowded sheds, etc. The lilac will bloom for someone else. It will be a stranger's home, and bit by bit I will have to come to terms with the fact that he is gone.

But for now, I can't get in the car without breaking down crying. There is nowhere that my grief feels understood. Even at Rob's the executor who was a friend for 20 years, shows no signs of grief. The relentless cheer is hard for me to take.

I thought that if there were one place where my grief would be understood, it would be there. Where is the land where this grief is understood and shared?

No friends found

I've spent some time today on Facebook, looking up old friends. Several times, upon coming on a person without a picture, but the right name, I would click on the "view friends" to see if the person's friends were either people I knew or were at least from the right part of the country, where other information is lacking.

Several times I came upon the disturbing notice: "John Doe has no friends." "Belinda X. has no friends." Now I understand what they are trying to say, but it got me to thinking about what it would be like to truly have no friends. Who are the people who have no friends? What is their life like? What would make a person have no friends? What in a person's past would damage them to the point where they simply did not reach out and have friends?

How do you go about befriending a person with no friends? How do you indentify such a fragile soul?

Such a stark statement. Put your own name in the statement. _________ has no friends. Imagine what it would take for you to quit trying, to refuse friendly overatures, to withdraw so completely into yourself that you truly would not have a friend in the world. Who would you have to alienate? What friend would be persistant and what would you do to totally end their gestures of friendship?

So Great A Cloud of Witnesses

Sitting in the sanctuary, the cellist and violinist played old hymns. As I listened, I heard him singing. I remembered riding in the car while he played gospel quartets and sang along. He had a very nice rich baritone and he didn't hold back when he sang. I couldn't help crying as I remembered. Every song I had heard him sing.

I wonder now as I never have before, if Rob is one of those in the "great cloud" who is watching and cheering me on. I don't really understand it, but Paul wrote about it. I've thought about the great saints of the Bible, but for the first time I think there is someone there with particular affection for me who is cheering me on. It is a strange but comforting thought.

Hearing the music though, that reminds me of the sadness of missing him day by day. I can hardly stand not being able to talk with him.

Unemployment Woes

In the past it was my role to be encouraging to those seeking employment. I attempted to do so with caring and genuine concern for their plight. I didn't have a real understanding of the feeling that comes from day by day by day looking for work and hearing nothing. Or, worse, finding out that many of the jobs you apply for aren't real jobs, but are simply to entice you onto yet another job board, or are "opportunities" for work at home.

I am naturally an optimistic person, but I get a bit down at times. The process is depressing, and if you aren't careful, could really destroy a person.

Some people do not understand. The assumption is that we can live off our savings. What savings? We have been pulling out of the pit left by a failed business. The loss of both our jobs came as we were getting ready to try to build up our savings again, well...the timing isn't ideal.

While I don't think it is a time for rash decisions, it is a good time to be thinking through goals and direction for the future. Is is enough to simply take a menial job that does not have anything to do with what I want to be doing in my life? How do these decisions get made? What is valued in life? What does God want for me to do?

When tempted to be afraid, that must be set aside, or overcome for fear does not lead to wise and sober decisions, nor is it good for the body or the mind.

Ah, some days I ramble. What did Moses do? He followed the direction of God each day. It doesn't appear to me that he knew other than great generalities what God was doing. He had great promises, but did he understand how each day added up to the fulfillment of those promises? He had been used mightily by God but it seems to me he would not have understood the daily direction. He would have been discouraged many times as they wandered. He had 2 million people whining, complaining, and wanting what they used to have. Forgetting the worst of it, they only remembered the good things. (For them the good things were leeks and onions. To each his own.)

I need to learn the lesson here. Do not hunger and thirst for the things that are past. The longing for them only hides the reality of what was. The memories are selective, it seems. I need to appreciate the gifts of today, the manna as it were. God goes before me, even though I don't have a visible representation of that. He provides for me, though in a different way than in the past.

Oh, I'm no Moses, but I certainly wish I were more like him. I would like to be the kind of person that stands for God and his truth even when all around fall away. I would love to be the kind of person who spends time in such complete devotion. Moses spent 40 days without food or drink, fasting, praying and spending time with God. Would that I were as devoted and as close. I fall so short.

Witch Doctor, Fount of All Wisdom, Uncle, Friend

For 30-plus years I have been friends with a remarkable, enjoyable, lovable curmudgeon. As a child he was the one who told us about all manner of mischief we longed to be part of (and I bet my brothers secretly were) like potato cannons and other somewhat dangerous fun. He told wild stories, all the while laughing like he could scarcely catch his breath. Initially friends with my parents, he was truly friends with us kids. He remembers episodes of my childhood that I can only recall in bits and pieces, explaning behaviors and memories I could not make heads or tails of.

I think he knew all our family secrets.

There wasn't much he didn't know. He had knowledge of aerospace, aeronautics, electrical engineering, rocket science, biology, chemistry, construction, medicine, etc., etc. We couldn't find anything he didn't know about. That is, until personal computers. Personal computers were a puzzle to him.

He was really into health and all the wacky stuff that goes along with it. Colloidal silver (sp?), some weird kind of foot bath that was supposed to remove toxins, this vitamin, that supplement, this juice drink, that special vitamin concoction special ordered, wheat grass, laetril, etc., etc. I took to ignoring the latest recommendation for healing every medical issue I had.

He spent so much time with us when I was growing up that the only way I could explain how close we were is to call him Uncle. How else to explain the guy who was at our family holiday meals, at church, went camping with us, and was so very special to us? It was an honorary title, but one he was willing to own. I know one time he had a surgical procedure at the VA hospital and brought me along as his "niece" so that they would let me visit him and make decisions for him if anything went wrong.

We were great friends, and I loved him.

The call came in this morning that Rob died. I had been planning to visit him this afternoon. I knew he was dying, but I am still devastated by the loss. How could I be prepared to lose such a wonderful friend?

Rob Harris, died January 18, 2009. Missed by many, many close friends and family. And me.

Working on a week-long headache.

So for 6, 7 or 8 days now (I've lost count.) I've had a very bad headache. I have had 3 chiropractic treatments, 2 migraine sprays (or is it 3?), many ibuprofen and excedrin, used ice packs, slept with a roll carefully placed under my neck, done neck excersizes, done relaxation...but the headache seems to only receed for brief periods only to return for no apparent reason.

So today, I am still sitting in my pajamas at 2:05 pm [In my shame I took a moment to go get dressed.] I am wallowing in movies. Thanks to my son, I have found HULU. I have not figured out all the things on this site, but I have watched a few movies (with brief commercial interruptions)and sat here, hoping to rid myself of this headache through rest and relaxation.

I need to go see a friend who I have put off this week, and go visit uncle Rob in hospice. I was so hoping to have my headache gone. Yikes!

Two Hopes

Last week I visited a friend and found him in a state. He has been fighting cancer for quite some time. He looked at me and said, "I've given up hope." I put my arms around him and said, "No, my friend, there are two hopes. You've given up hope of healing in this world. You still have the best hope which is that you will be face to face with Jesus." I believe that, though I don't know quite where the words came from.

I am grateful that there is hope beyond this life. In this world which is so damaged from the ravages and consequences of sin entering into it, there are often things which cause moments of depression and despair. When I hear that a lady from church has gone home to die, having refused any further cancer treatments, and will leave her grief-stricken husband and daughters, I am broken. When another friend is having an impossibly difficult pregnancy, when a friend's daughter has an inoperable brain tumor at the age of 16, when my father moans from the dreadful pain of stenosis, when I stop to think about the 17+ years of pain I have had, I grow weary and despondent. I refuse to wallow there, but I get there for certain.

Today has been a hard day, sitting in hospice with a friend. He is longing for a swift and speedy end. He asked me to pray for a coma. Some of the health care workers seem to think he has more painful lingering to do. Oh, how I long for him to see his hope fulfilled. I long to know that he is seeing Jesus face to face. And yet, if it were my will, I would long to have him with us for years to come.

I have not seen my hopes for him in this world fulfilled. I am certain that his hopes for the next will be.