Keep saying Good Bye. This is what someone, not a widow, advised me to do long ago. Say more Good Byes. Say Good Bye to his things. She said that making room in my house was akin to making room in my heart for others. Except that, 'Hello?!?', my widow's heart was already hopelessly empty. Why was I going to underline the fact by emptying my house? Yet I made the hundreds of donations to the dump and the library and the thrift shops. Each new empty space I created underscored the fact that I was alone, beyond anybody caring about how I began or ended my days, about how I felt about things, about what I wanted for dinner. Well, the spaces I created didn't stay empty long. They still don't.
What I really need is someone who cares how I begin and end my days. A confidant. A BFF. Some Moms have tight relationships with their kids and others, who want to hear the details of their day. I didn't want to ask my step kids to be my confidants, and I didn't want to drive away friends with chatter only husbands, good husbands, can entertain. I used my journal to record my thoughts, and finally this blog.
Much to my surprise, a confidant has appeared. I've mentioned him before. And this incredible BFF makes Good Byes doable, even purposeful. But I have to ask: Which came first? Making room in the house, then in my heart? Making room in my heart, then in my house?
I believe we never dangle all alone in space, beyond God's care and concern. Ideally, people are the 'boots on the ground' experience of God's love for each other. But that's not how I experienced widowhood. My husband's boots had fallen silent. Other boots would come, help for a while, then depart. Silence. I felt very unappealing. It was a very very long time before I pulled my own boots on and started walking. That's me in the picture above, before I found my boots.
Wouldn't you know, at this point boots on another pair of feet ambled in. They have stayed awhile. I'm making room for this dude.
Make room for others. Because they're waiting, in anticipation and pleasure, to meet you.
If I keep this up, I'll have a life and space in my house for him.
