I love being able to express my thoughts, tell or teach little stories or life lessons, expound upon ideas and opinions about issues going on in the world. I love to delve into the deeper things life has to offer. I love to get under the surface, not just scratch the top layer. But the truth is, I am mainly silent. I have lost my voice. Only time will tell whether I get it back. There is a closed-tight door between my heart and soul and this voice of mine right now. Some days I get glimpses of it again but mostly it fades away. The words are mainly stuck. I have had to read others words for the time being and let them express how I feel because I can't seem to find my own.
My block comes in the form of a large wad of feelings and emotions that cause regular life to pale in the enormity of dealing with Edd's cancer. Watching him every day knowing things will not get better. I am a hopeful person. It goes against everything within me to think his health will not ultimately improve apart from a miracle from God. It goes against the very way I live my life believing that things will get better and " this too shall pass." But this won't. And yet saying it aloud makes me feel like I am giving up. And that too is contrary to my way of seeing problems and challenges and feels so … wrong.
I ache as I see the man I fell so hard in love with. And I fell hard. I saw him so strong and large-and -in-charge in my world. He always made things better for me. I felt safe by his side. I felt loved and secure in his arms. I melted when his eyes met mine and he smiled at me and pulled me close. But I don’t always feel safe now and our dreams have been cut short. Our life together is not what we envisioned and I grieve it every day. The grief is unspoken but it is there. It touches me when I look over at him and see a man finding it hard to eat...yet trying to do all the right things. A man taking chemo and medications that destroy his strength as sure as they strive to destroy the cancer cells. But he is stronger than ever in spirit. His courage. His inner resolve. His loyalty. His strength of character. His unselfishness. It humbles me and brings me to my knees and breaks me. He still thinks of ME in the midst of it all. Wanting to know, striving to make SURE, I will be okay no matter what.
With Edd I got to rest for a while. After my divorce. After a lot of upheaval, confusion and failure. REST. That’s how I felt when we were together. I am so thankful for that period of rest. Rest. What a wonderful word. I’ll never think of him without remembering that time of rest.
What if we didn’t have tears? What if I couldn’t cry when my heart was breaking? What if I didn’t have that release of emotion? God knew how important it would be. For me. For this moment in time.
Thank you God.
I don’t like to be the person in need. I don’t like to be the one who doesn’t have the answers.
Maybe this is all too personal to write in my blog. Maybe I should just keep all this to myself. But it is me. It is HUMAN. It is what many before me and many after me will experience.
Some may express their experience with words. Some may stay silent. I find silence to be a form of even greater suffering. I may not shout all my feelings from the rooftop, but I can write some thoughts down and somehow that helps. Somehow it lets the feelings out and sets me just a little bit free. Maybe free enough to be creative and hopeful and strong for another day.
SAYING “I love you” isn’t as important as LIVING “I love you”. I see “I love you” LIVED in front of me every day. I want to live it too.