January 13, 2015-ONE. We’ve become accustomed to the standard verifiability of love that says “I love you SO MUCH...if one of us has to die, let it be me”... ...but from my perspective...the truest form of love says “I love you SO MUCH...if one of us has to stay...let it be me.” January. February. March. April. May. June. July. August. September. October. November. December. January 2015. A year. Simply typing the months doesn’t do it justice...the length of a year, the growth in a year, the firsts in a year. When you left...I took up residence in a parallel universe; where I was without a husband, but still somebody’s wife. You were no longer here...but who was I without you? Who was I outside of being a widow? The days and nights melded together in a foggy blur that I could function in...but couldn’t seem to understand. Why was it so hard to remember things? Why couldn’t I concentrate during a conversation? Why did I keep grabbing cinnamon rolls in the bakery department...when the one person who liked them, wasn’t here to eat them? Widow’s brain. It’s a thing. A foggy state of survival where you ease back into life...and love...and living, the same as driving through fog. You hold on tight to the steering wheel...squint your eyes...flicker your brights on and off...and keep driving. Sometimes you need to pull over...regroup...but eventually you’re through it. Light shifts. And you accelerate. Grief isn’t like a fog. But I would liken the first year of widowhood to it. So much has happened...and changed...and I’m convinced if you were here, you’d still fall in love with this crazy piece of “different but the same.” I still take drives...and watch action movies all alone...and put your armrest down when the sun beams in on your side. But I knew the day you went to Heaven....that neither of us would be the same...and that this year held within it the most beautiful of opportunities: to grow, and thrive, and discover, and pursue Jesus...singularly. As me. Not as “the former Mrs. John Bolta”...a real way I was once introduced to someone...I smiled and said “it’s Schelli...just Schelli.” I’ve since dropped the “just”...because I’m blessed to look in the mirror at a woman who God has carried through a storm...at a mom who has learned that “lone parenting” is hard, but rewarding...at a single woman who admittedly has zero clue how to act around men, I’m sure I’ll figure that out someday...and at an adventurer who isn’t afraid of failing, but is terribly afraid of not living. I love you. Too much for words. But since I had to stay...I chose to live. And I know you’re doing the same...changing...growing...and hopefully smiling at all you see down here. Of course I know you have opinions...but you’ll just have to get over it. I like my nose ring. This first year of firsts has been both the hardest and most beautiful moments of my life. Hard, because you weren’t here...empty chairs, quiet mornings, a Father’s day spent in our house hiding from a big world proclaiming every other little girl had a Daddy to hand a card to. Yet beautiful, because I found out over...and over...and over again, that my comfort and peace really does come from the Lord. I just had to cry out...and sometimes SCREAM out to Him...but I don’t think God is intimidated by the shrieking rants of a 5’ 4” redhead. Although, I think He ought to be. He has always and will always swoop in and comfort me, whether I’m screaming, or crying, or laughing...His arms hold me together. “The same arms that embraced you at Heaven’s gate...are the same arms that hold me whenever I think of your beautiful face.” Know this...you are missed, you are LOVED, and you are remembered. I don’t remember this as the day you died...I’ve decided to see this as the day you were reborn...and so was I. Thank you...for every beautiful moment, for every insane experience, for the long drives, and long talks...for creating a piece of perfection with me...and for trusting me to raise her to know both you and Jesus. Thank you for praying on our behalf there...for sowing seeds into your daughter’s life...for looking out for her...for making me laugh each and every time she does something that only YOU would have thought of. Thank you for making me stronger...and better...thank you for letting me be your wife. ..and most of all, thank you for giving me peace this side of Heaven that I would be okay when that was stripped away. Happy ONE year birthday...to my very best friend, who waits in a place I can only imagine...who I loved more than this world can imagine. You will always be the man who captured my heart...so much so, that 6 hours before you died I brokenly begged God to take you. Because if one of us had to stay and live without the other...let it be me. And it was. So I live. For the both of us. All my LOVE, Schelli
Posted on: Wed, 14 Jan 2015 03:34:01 +0000
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