Unless one has experienced it first hand, one can never understand the range and depth of emotions involved in the loss of a spouse by death.
I never thought in a million years that I would go through this heart-rending experience and so soon. I held on with all of my heart to God’s promise: ““Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.”
So I asked and asked, sought and knocked for mercy that my husband’s life be spared. I bargained everything that I am and everything that I can. Does He want me to burn all my earthly possessions? I will and start again from scratch. Poverty does not scare me, I’ve been there before. I can do it again.
What about my own life? Can He please compute my remaining years on Earth and give half of it to my husband that we may spend a few more years. Can we have ten more years? Five? Two?
He was a good man. He deserved to live, and the good life was just starting. We were just entering the third year of a very good, fun marriage. In three weeks, we will be celebrating our second wedding anniversary. He desperately wanted to have children. He was planning to buy a house in anticipation of a bigger family.
But indeed, not all prayers are answered favorably.
My husband’s heart was unyielding to the doctor’s efforts to revive. It was surreal. It was painful. It was cruel.
How dare that doctor say that he’s dead when his cheek was soft and warm? The feel of his cheek that morning was no different from the other mornings I kissed him awake. But this time, he did not wake up. His eyes remained closed, and his chest was still.
The certainty and finality of this parting was unbelievable. My sleep-deprived mind refused to understand the enormity of the situation. God surely did guide me; I don’t know where I got the strength and sanity to peacefully send him in his final journey. I whispered that I will be okay, that I am strong. He can now go celebrate with Jesus. I thanked him for loving me and for the perfect years we had and asked him to help his parents survive their loss.
That was the last time I saw him or his earthly body.
As I stood at the balcony outside the ICU, I looked up the sky and imagined him flying between the white clouds. I suddenly remembered that he made me watch the movie “Windstruck” weeks ago, about a young couple wherein the man died after a year of relationship. In the movie, the man guided the woman in surviving from her grief. The man told his girlfriend that every time the woman feels the wind, that’s him embracing her.
Will you do the same, my love? Was that you embracing me when I felt the strong wind as I sat inside the columbary during our second anniversary? Were you the raindrops falling as I exited the hospital the day you passed on because you know I love it when it is drizzling outside?
I have never felt so alone in my entire life. I have been alone before, and I am so blessed with the love of family and good friends, but my heart is inconsolable.
I am in pain.
I am hurting terribly.
I am confused.
I feel afraid.
I am angry.
I am tired.