Overwhelming

That is the word that best describes the last few days - or actually the last 6 weeks.
I looked it up in the dictionary and one definition of overwhelm was "to overpower in thought and feeling."  Yes.  That is close.

I write this blog as a record and also to somehow maybe identify what I am feeling. Yesterday when I got aup at 3:30 in the morning (sleeping late today to 4:00!) I realized that I am trying to "catch up" with all that has happened.  It has been less than two months since Chuck had the surgery that led to his death.  In the past two months
1. November 12rh Surgery
2, week long hospital stay
3. Thanksgiving with his family and he was improving
4. December 1st - I officiated as a funeral in Dayton for Myke O'Diam who was a young man in my youth group in Zanesville
5. December 6th - Chuck's daughter Lisa had similar surgery to Chuck and I drove to Toledo to be with her that day, arranging for care for Chuck.
6. December 8th - I planned and attended half of my annual Advent Women's retreat
7. December 9th - Chuck fell and Audrey and I took him to the Emergency room at 11:30 PM, returning home at 2:00 AM
8. December 11th - Chuck fell and the Squad took him to the emergency room where he spent the night
9. At the point Chuck has stopped eating without a lot of encouragement.  Physical therapist and occupational therapists who are coming to our home have changed their goals for him - from improvement to keeping him safe
10. December 14th - We visit our beloved Dr. Cox and she and I cry together as it is clear that Chuck is declining
11. December 16th - Many people from church come to visit - Joe prays and anoints Chuck, the pastor and Daryl bring a prayer blanket
12. December 17th Chuck falls again at 11:00 PM and the squad takes him to the hospital.  Marnie and I stay until 4 AM
13. December 18th - Kacey spends 12 hours with Chuck at the hospital and my brother and Gail arrive from New Hampshire.  For the next three days he is there and well cared for.  I go to meetings with palliative care, social workers, psychiatrists and determine the next steps.
14. December 22 - He goes to Heartland of Dublin.  I immediately hate it and the fact that he is sharing a room with a difficult roommate. Kerry and Melanie come by and encourage me to let my friends help
15. December 23th - friends come and take shifts of care for him so I can shop a little and meet with hospice.  My children and grandchildren and Dawn and Jason all say goodbye to him.
16. December 24th - I spend the morning with him, friends spend the afternoon while we have "family Christmas" and Audrey and I with Melanie and Erin spend Christmas Eve night with him.  His roommate has mercifully gone home and we talk quietly in a darkened room.  At 10:30 PM we see his breathing has changed.  Audrey tells him she loves him and I do too and encourage him to let go.  And he does.  He is gone.  Audrey and I go to Marnie's house to drink wine and cry.
17. The next days are a blur of preparation for the celebration of life.  We sift through pictures and make a photo montage, make arrangements with musicians and church people, visit the funeral home, clean the house.  And cry a lot
18. Weekend of January 4 - 6: My whole family comes for the celebration: two brothers, two sisters in law, one brother in law,  my best friend, two nieces.  We eat, drink, play games, sing, tell stories and cry.
19. January 6th - the Celebration of Life is overwhelming.  People come constantly from 1 to 3 to pay their respects and the church is full for the the service.  I see people from every part of my life and try as hard as I can to connect and to be present.
20. January 7th.  I say goodbye to family and Susan who have traveled here.  I pick up the cremains and now wear a heart with Chuck's ashes in it.

I write this and realize that so much has happened in such a short time.  I don't like the word "process" - like these is so much to "process" - like I am a machine.  Instead I say - thee is so much to remember, to savor, to feel.  To wonder at.

So many blessings, miracles, God sightings.  So much love expressed and so much grief.  I wake up now every morning grateful to be alone so I can just remember and cry for a while.  I have been aware throughout this experience that I do not grieve alone - I see my daughters, Chuck's friends, his daughter and grandchildren, my grandchildren, my friends and there are mirrors of what I am feeling.  This  garrulous, gallivanting, giving, good hearted man loved me more than I have ever been loved and he is physically gone from my life. And there is a void without a doubt.

However, as always I will say - I do not grieve like those who have no faith.  Sherie Lindamood sent me this wonderful quote by Camus which speaks to me today and every day:

"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that there is in me an invincible summer."  

It has been an overwhelming time in my life.  And I remain - I hope - alive and open and grateful and grieving.