Be warned, this is a self indulgent post; you may choose to abandon now.
I am not a person for whom happiness comes easily now which is one of the great ironies of life. My middle name, Kay, is Celtic for happy but it seems, along with that name, I’ve also inherited the Celts propensity for ennui.
A lot of time, especially since Dave’s death, and, let’s face it, perhaps most of the time, I push through a fog of listlessness. It’s only sometimes the joy of heaven breaks through, catching me completely unawares at what eternity will be and further cementing my desire to stay true.
It’s nigh on nine years since Dave’s death and closer to eleven since he was diagnosed with cancer. I’m not entirely sure at which point my heart finished breaking but the first crack appeared when the young resident broke the news, “It’s stage 4 lung cancer.”
It was hard to breath. Impossible even. Tension was palpable as Dave fought for control and my lap was being soaked with silent tears coursing down my face. The young resident looked very uncomfortable. As the silence in the room deepened and lengthened she abruptly rose from her stool, excused herself and scurried from the room.
My arm wrapped around Dave as he laid his hand on my head. Breath returned, slowed, as our universe in each other righted.
We were never publically demonstrative toward each other. The need to be reassured by constantly touching was never part of who we were. A glance, a smile affirmed and reaffirmed our place together. Lest you think this was always the way with us, it was not. Those first couple of married years (after a six year courtship developing a foundational friendship) were fraught with unease as he came to grips with, as he might have seen the betrayal of his re-marriage.
Cathy was, from all accounts (she and I never met), brilliant in many ways and the way that turned out to be most important, to me at least, she gave Dave permission, even urged him, to re-marry. For many years, Cathy had battled cancer and succumbed the year before I met Dave and when we met, he was an empty shell. He was trying for suicide by smoking and drinking too much; even so, a man who would grieve as he was made me determined to see what was left when he came out the other side. It never occurred to me he might not.
You may ask, “Why are you writing about this again?” and my reply is, “You may choose to stop reading.”
~ gentle smile ~
To answer your question, I’m writing about this again because I think about it all the time but there is no one who is willing to simply listen. People want to say (and have), “Whew! Are you still blathering on about that?” Grief makes people uncomfortable; they want to box grief, tie it with a great ribbon and bow and pretend it never happened. They fear some might think them tottering on the brink. Writing about that, in some gentle, odd way gives me hope to move forward (where will I go if not forward, eh?) and, possibly, it might help someone else. People e-mail me to say they are in similar circumstances…a loved one diagnosed with terminal illness, someone in the stage of passing, someone is grieving, they need help getting their affairs in order, etc. It’s a long list and will, eventually, be pertinent to us all. If my nattering helps, then the transparency is worthwhile; aren’t we to bear each other’s burdens?
Western world, for the most part, is comfortable with lust but not love. Throughout all media lust is so thrust, pun intended, into our lives that unless it’s extremely coarse, it’s not even noticed. Magazines at the grocery line checkout show women with breasts spilling out of their clothes and swimwear leaves nothing to the imagination yet most don’t even register as they glance at the covers.
I don’t have subscription television and the few times I see a screen I’m appalled at how debased “entertainment” has become. Recently I received a very attractive offer to subscribe to satt television. It was a siren’s call, especially as my back has kept me more closely contained inside and I nearly fell for it.
I’m the keeper of my home and I choose gentleness. The books and Acorn television shows I read and watch ensure the good guys win and when there is lewdity I’m so old fashioned, prudish even, I leave the room. In a world gone made with demonic activity the goodness and gentleness is important to me and I’m good with men doing dark deeds to keep me (and us) safe from harm. To those folks doing just that you have my complete gratitude and thank you, thank you!
Oh, the aforementioned sound of my heart breaking? It became a chasm the morning I received word Dave died and time stopped even as an uncaring world continued and Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy was pushed toward completion. Perhaps my heart hasn’t shown the damage but my health has suffered but it’s nothing, I claim, that can’t be corrected with time, etc. and with God’s help. To be sure the medical community (iow, AMA and Big Pharm) will say one cannot be injured or die from a broken heart but life proves otherwise. People do suffer physical, emotional, spiritual injury from a shock which is so great, so enormous the body cannot cope and, in self defense, chooses another path. Perhaps those people will never know the effects of a broken heart but they’ll also never know the extreme happiness or sorrow that precludes and comes after.
“Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead, Put crepe bows around the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood; For nothing now can ever come to any good.” are the words of W. H. Auden.
God kept me from dying and there are many reasons, some of which only are known to Him but I know He wanted me to continue stewardship over what He allowed Dave and I to have. “The animals,” I once told Dave, “will keep me from following you” and they have. With every breath I’m closer to eternity and as each animal dies in turn, my universe continues to shift, realign, shrink.
Dave and I often talked about the impregnable fortress of emotional attachment we were building and he warned me, time and again, of the danger of being left.
It was worth it.
It is worth it.
Many many many times I cry out to God for Jesus with skin on and a cat will jump in my lap or a dog will lay their head on my shoulder or a horse will head hug me. It’s not what one usually thinks of when “Jesus with skin on” is mentioned but God’s ways are not my ways and I choose to trust Him.
This affliction I have, this broken heart syndrome He holds in the palm of His great hand. His arms uphold me and He loves me; I am the apple of His eye as He rejoices over me with singing!
Will God repair my broken heart? I am willing and know He is able even as I don’t know if He is willing. But I know He will…if not in this world, then the next and while I am waiting I choose to trust Abba.
Peace be to us, now and always.
Colin Boss says
I’m new to your blog, but had to comment as this is such a beautifully written piece. Whilst unbearably sad to read, under it all is your affirmation to continue and live each day as testimony to the love which you and your husband shared, for each other and the animals. Stay strong, and keep focussed on this.
Colin
Sandra Bennett says
Dear Colin, thank you for visiting and I’m not usually this late in responding. I’ve taken time to grieve and come to new terms in life. Upcoming posts will be a tad more cheerful LOL at myself. Come back soon.
Shirley Wall says
This is so beautifully written and spoke to my heart! Thank you for sharing your heart. I have read your blog for a few months but have not commented before. Thank you and blessings! Shirley
Sandra Bennett says
Shirley, you are so kind, thank you! It’s been a long, hard road but God has been faithful. Thanks for commenting, it means a LOT.
Tee says
Just found your blog. Absolutely love it! You have a profound gift of storytelling. I really enjoy your writing style and personality. Thank you. I find myself alone on a family farm also. I get thru the mundane but always feel unfulfilled and without purpose.
Sandra Bennett says
Oh Tee, my heart goes out to you…it’s a tough job but rewarding or so I believe. Feel free to write anytime and keep the faith, keep going forward. Don’t stop.
Carol says
Sandra,
Your broken heart is beautiful, as is your love for Dave, you are such a gift here. Words fail on this post, your words said it all perfectly. Keep on posting. Every post is a gift to readers and a glory to God. Also, it’s good to know how to pray. Love and prayers to you.
Sandra Bennett says
Carol, thank you so much. Your words are a balm in Gilead, it’s been a dry season but life and work
demands moving forward. If we don’t move forward, where will we go, eh? God bless you, Carol.
~k says
I don’t Facebook, so posted here…
of many things for you. You are very much enjoyed, and missed.
Sandra Bennett says
Oh K…your kindness is a blessing and I am grateful! I’m working on another post…
Vintage Homestead…I’ve been making apple butter, apple pies, apple and sausage quiche,
apple walnut bread. Daddy called, “The neighbor said, “Come pick apples” so get over here.
I picked about 2 bushels, shared with parents and am now eyeball deep in the kitchen.
~k says
Had a feeling maybe that you could use a dose of something you already know…while your working away on your present project, mulling things over I bet.
Hey, maybe add those recipes of apple and sausage quiche,
apple walnut bread, in the next post please,
I would love to try them!
As always, you are appreciated!
~k says
“Strong women- precious jewels all- their humanness is evident in their accessibility.
We are able to enter into the spirit of these women and rejoice in their warmth and courage.”
― Maya Angelou
Sandra Bennett says
OH WOW! I love this quote and was raised by these strong, Godly women. Such a blessing were their lives
and their memories. thank you k, for this quote!
~k says
“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly,
but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.”
― Maya Angelou
Sandra Bennett says
like a diamond from coal…it pays to remember the trials and tribulations.
they make us who we are today.
~k says
“My wish for you is that you continue.
Continue to be who and how you are, to astonish a mean world with your acts of kindness.
Continue to allow humor to lighten the burden of your tender heart.”
― Maya Angelou
Sandra Bennett says
Oh gosh, it IS a mean world, isn’t it? Some days I despair but then remember nothing is a surprise
to God and He’s in control. Then I take a deep breath, eat some chocolate and relax. XOXO
Becky says
I’m sending you a Becky-sized virtual hug (prepare yourself…they tend to squeeze the wind out of people). XO
Sandra Bennett says
It felt wonderful, Becky, thank you! God bless and thank you again.
magsmcc says
We love that poem, my mother and I. She bought an Auden anthology after we heard it in that Four Weddings movie (which I wouldn’t recommend to you!). I’ve maybe talked to you about this before but her stroke happened the day after the first anniversary of her favourite sister’s death and I fully believe that she nearly died of a broken heart. I also always love reading you write about Dave. You are a shining beacon, Sandra, of love and faithfulness, and isn’t that such a reflection of God? I think so. I’m afraid we can’t be your Jesus with skin on, but we’ll always be your Celtic family, ennui and all x
Sandra at Thistle Cove Farm says
Now how did you know I’ve not seen that movie? Because I see so few movies, eh, Mags! I did look it up and it seems a tad trite and, possibly, even rude.
I didn’t realize your Mother’s stroke was the day after the favorite sister’s death; to be sure it had a direct bearing on her health.
Aunt Esther was a widow for almost 40 years; she had offers of marriage but told me, “I’d feel like I betrayed Clarence”. When a young girl, Aunt Esther and her sister had been given to the orphanage. It was the height of the Depression and their parents had no money to buy food, keep a roof over their heads, clothe them. The hard decision was made to put them in an orphanage and those feelings of abandonment shadowed her entire life. When Uncle Clarence met her, loved her and asked her to marry him, those feelings of abandonment were regulated to a back room. When I’d visit her, she always talked about Uncle Clarence and I’d always listen. He was my favorite uncle, listening was no hardship. Aunt Esther did have heart attacks, open heart surgery, cancer and suffered them all without her helpmeet. When I’m tempted to depression, I remember those women in my life, strong women all, and I determine not to be the broken link.
God tells me (us) in Exodus, “Sandra, simply stand still. I will fight your battles for you.”
And when I do, He does.
~K says
“Will God repair my broken heart?”
I believe so, you are writing, word-smithing/posting this….
and (?) repairing yours/theirs/our
hearts by doing this
by your ponderings written and the replies given.
PS) !Thank you!
Sandra at Thistle Cove Farm says
thank you K, so much! It’s always frightening to put myself out there; there’s always a chance I’ll receive a private e-mail and someone is upset.
Sandra at Thistle Cove Farm says
You are kind, K, and you’re welcome. God’s ways are not our ways, His thoughts not our thoughts and His plans for us are for our good and His glory. Won”t heaven be GRAND?!
GretchenJoanna says
As Ellen says, it’s a tearing-in-two when one’s spouse dies. I’m glad you have had supportive family, Sandra, and your blog, and your animals, God bless them! My widow’s grief was reawakened after about two weeks of quarantining and not having anyone around to touch. (I don’t have animals.) That particular aspect of loneliness is not so bad now, but there is simply no replacement for the one who’s gone; I don’t see me healing from the broken heart, the heart that is torn in two. Still, the Lord is not hindered by it.
By the way, how many animals do you have now? Do you think you might adopt more? What a great gift they have been.
Sandra says
Ah Gretchen, you were another in my thoughts as I wrote. As you said, the Lord isn’t hindered but I can’t see recovery any time soon, if ever. It’s not that I don’t want recovery, I simply don’t know how to get there. I watched aunts and Grandmothers become widows and some remained widows while others remarried. Circumstances were different for each of them.
In this rural, and a lot of rural areas, all that self quarantine business didn’t happen. Farmers and ranchers still have to do what we do and if others want to eat as well, then we get on with it. I’ve been stunned at the amount of palpable fear from urban dwellers and even here I see people wearing masks outside. It’s beyond my comprehension why one would wear a mask in fresh air and sunshine especially when the temps hover around 100 degrees F.
I have 2 horses, 2 dogs and a lot of cats but as they die, they are not being replaced. I’ve asked God not to send any more rescue critters; He smiles as He sends another.
Robyn says
Hi Sandra,
I can’t believe it’s been almost nine years already. I can’t believe I’ve been reading your blog that long. I do believe one can die from a broken heart. I’ve seen it happen. I also don’t believe there is a time limit or any particular way to grieve either. I have three deep losses in my life, one of which is over thirty years ago and I still grieve. I believe the Lord gives us what we need when we need it even if we don’t recognize it. As you said, His ways are not our ways. I also believe we will all be healed of whatever ails us and again, like you said, either it will be here or in the life of eternity but healing will come, we just have to keep being as obedient as we can and trusting in His love and mercy for us…
Sandra Bennett says
Robyn, you are SO right! His Word tells us, “Obedience is better than sacrifice” and I hold to that even when I’m being rebellious. I strive to keep it at a minimum but sometimes, just sometimes, the old spirit pushes to the surface. Yep, in November it’ll be 9 years.
Barbara Dunford says
Sandra, I had to read this twice to properly feel your words. No words of mine will make any difference to you, however sympathetic they are. I feel deeply for all you have written, and how well I know the intense need for someone, anyone, to just listen. Not to talk, not to say ‘I know’ (because they dont), not to exude sympathy. Just to listen. And sometimes a quiet murmur, a sort of ‘mmmm’, or a gentle touch is all one needs.
I have not suffered as you have. I came close last year when my very frail husband looked as though he was at end of life stage, but with immense care he recovered. So I understand a little about being torn in pieces with fear, with grief and with apprehension.
If it’s any help, I will pray for you, Sandra.
Sandra says
Hi Barbara – you were on my mind as I wrote about loved ones at end life stage. My memory is a terrible servant for I can always remember your name and your situation but little else. God knows though; He doesn’t waver.
Your prayers are welcome and needed, always. You and your beloved are on my prayer list and lifted. If you love his voice, record it; it will be a treasure one day.
Barbara, God’s ways aren’t our ways; I haven’t a clue about most of life and death but I do know…God is able.
Linda B says
Sandra, I felt such a connection reading your story. I’m a melancholy person, too. I still have my husband, but lost my mother two years ago from vascular dementia and still grieve over her suffering and the loss of her. I believe I will see her again, but I miss her now. The Good Lord is my comfort. Psalm 57 speaks of taking shelter under the shadow of His wings and there are times that I dwell on that very thought and it’s so comforting. Like you, I have my furry babies and that also helps tremendously. I’m sending you my love tonight. I wish I could give you a big hug! Take care, sweet lady.
Sandra Bennett says
Hello Linda and thank you greatly! I’m so sorry for the circumstances and death of your mother. Indeed, the Good Lord is our comfort; I just finished Psalm and am now in Proverbs…read through the Bible until the end, then begin again. I’ve had the image of being held in God’s palm with Him singing over me…marvelous! That image gets me through a lot of weary days.
Michelle says
Why would I stop reading? This is real; this is well written; this is awe-inspiring. I’m not sure I have that connection with my husband of 36 years, so when I read of C.S. Lewis’ one true love, and that told in the book “A Severe Mercy,” and your experience with Dave, it is a marvelous thing to ponder. My animals get me through the challenges in my life (even if they are sometimes the causes of them 😉); sometimes I think God uses them as He does angels.
Sandra says
Hi Michelle – yes, if not for the animals… . To have such a connection is to have total trust. Trust in the other’s intense well being for you; trust you’re safe in their heads, hearts and arms. Trust if you’re not “there”, they’ll still do what’s best for you. Trust you’ll do and be the same for them.
Trust is a scary thing but it’s also worthwhile. Having that kind of trust with Dave has allowed me to ponder and deepen my trust in Abba, even so.
Trust is a scary thing.
Michelle McMillen says
When trust has been broken, the resulting caution seems permanent.
Sandra at Thistle Cove Farm says
How well I know having been divorced prior to meeting Dave!
Dewena says
Not self-indulgent at all, Sandra Kay. You needed to write it and there are many who need to read it. More now than ever in a time when so many have had losses and fear of what our future will bring. Like a pastor of ours used to say, “I don’t fear dying, I just fear getting dead,” it’s the getting dead that sometimes preys on my mind now and trying to figure out ahead of time what one of us will do IF…
Auden’s words always bring tears to my eyes and they did again as I read them from your perspective.
Sandra says
Hi Dewena, I love what you pastor used to say; so true! The being dead doesn’t bother me…absent in the body, present with the Lord. The possible pain and suffering beforehand weighs on my mind. I’m so grateful Dave died of a heart attack and not cancer. The radiation treatments weakened his heart so a blessing in disguise.
Auden’s words…wrench me Every Single Time.
Dewena says
Auden’s words, yes. How many poems can do that?
Sandra at Thistle Cove Farm says
In different ways, Yeats and Mary Oliver can do it for me.
ellen b. says
Peace to you, too. I honestly can’t imagine how life would be without my Dear. Because you are one with someone I know it would be like tearing yourself in two having the one you were “one with” gone from this earth. Without the help of our triune God things could be dismal all the time. I’m glad you have those sweet animals. Thanks for sharing your grief in the past and present.
Sandra says
thank you Ellen and my advice…don’t try to imagine. It’s not only wasted energy but you can’t begin to imagine. No one can. If it hadn’t been for female relatives and Dave who showed me a tad of what it was going to be like, I wouldn’t be this far along.
It’s almost yet unfathomable.
Jody says
I grieved exceedingly deeply, for many many years. The chasm was vast, bottomless and dark in its lovely quicksand of aching pain and memories. I agree one can truly die from a broken heart. The will to live – or not to live – cannot be discounted. Eventually, I’d say it took a decade, I had enough new memories that the old didn’t hold me down like they used to. Then another 2 decades passed. I grieved again. Until one day I decided more than anything in my entire life, I didn’t want to hurt anymore. I began to heal, slowly, slowly, over another period of ten years – one step forward, and forging ahead even when I made 2 steps back. It is for each of us to decide on our own how much pain we can handle, and what we claim for ourselves in this lifetime.. I am sorry you hurt, and I understand how you can revisit the past. It doesn’t matter if it isn’t anybody else’s reality – it is yours, and very real for you.
Sandra Bennett says
Dear Jody – thank you for giving a portion of your story; it helps. It helps me if not others but how can it not help others. What’s the old proverb? Blessings shared are doubled, sorrows shared are halved. I “think” I’ve reached the point I don’t want to hurt anymore; at least, it feels that way. I think it helps when one lives closer to places with choices…meaning, there are things to do, classes to take, etc. Where I live, there’s so little it can be said there’s nothing. I’ve thought about starting a Bible study…still thinking about how to do that. Last time I tried I was told, “We’re too busy for that kind of thing.” ouch.
My neighbor planted sunflowers along the road; when I called to say “thanks”, he said, “Please go pick a bouquet and enjoy.” It’s the little things, eh? that aren’t so little after all.
Lisa Richards says
You can talk about it as much as you like, lady! We all handle it in our own way. Bob only lived 4 months after his diagnosis of Stage 4 lung cancer. Never smoked a day in his life. I think it was asbestos in his work place. Anyway, the worst for me was when he couldn’t finish sentences, and then after some meds before his treatments he lost all ability to talk. The realization that we could never share our thoughts again was such a blow. If I had known his treatments would do no good I wouldn’t have put him through it. Some might think I was too calm about things. I cried in private, but I was also so happy for Bob that he was in Jesus’s presence and I wouldn’t call him back to this troubled world for anything. My kids and stepdad were lifesavers and helped me every inch of the way. They were God’s ministers in my life. Not everyone has that blessing. I’m so thankful. Hugs to you, sister! (I’m a melancholy person by nature, too. I get ya!)
Sandra says
Good Morning Lisa – many thanks and I don’t think I realized Bob died from lung cancer. One horrible fact is it’s the most common cancer among men and it doesn’t matter if they smoked or didn’t smoke. I understand about doing things differently but I also know I wouldn’t change anything. It’s not that I wouldn’t want to, it’s because I know I’m not all that smart and, even now, daily, I tell Abba, “You decide”. Some would say that’s a cheater’s way out; I say it’s trusting my heavenly Father. We’ll all be judged individually and I’m comfortable with that decision.
I wasn’t all that calm and the medicos at MCV might well remember me as a total loudmouth, unpleasant woman. I’m good with that. lol The medicos “lost” Dave in the system FOUR times! Every time I got a little more strident and the last time I stood up in a room full of about 75 people and yelled, “DOES ANYONE IN THIS PLACE HAVE A CLUE WHAT IS GOING ON?!!!” Nurses hurried to my side and shuffled me to a private room where I UNLOADED. I also fought with residents…told one, who wanted to release Dave with a 102 fever, “Trust me little man. You do NOT want to take me on because You Will Lose. Further, you’ll go back to China with your tail between your legs.” He left the room, I left the room and the next day I heard he went ballistic when he returned and I wasn’t there. Apparently, he wasn’t well liked among nursing staff and Dave had a male nurse.
I’m sorry to say I’ve got a hundred such stories.