Friday, December 6, 2013

So, how long does it take?

Perhaps hard to believe: it's been almost 7 months.

Life goes on for everybody.

I noted the 6 month mark by removing my wedding ring and engagement ring. There's no real time line for this and it felt right. Also, I had tried it earlier but because of salt intake, I couldn't get it off. At that time, I hoped I could retrieve it without that cutting-off tool. I did.

Now, safely tucked in a place I will not forget (WILL NOT....WILL NOT), I will decide what to do with it. No rush there.

So, I look at my left ring finger: first, there's quite the indentation, plus some tan lines. I expected that. However, there's also a strange ring of skin, softer, less weathered where my ring used to be.

To Google: suggestions are to exfoliate, moisturize, exfoliate again, and on and on, to restore the skin. Also, I asked around the hair salon. Several women showed me fingers where rings used to lay. 2 months, 6 months, 3 years.....the skin is still unmarked. So, I guess I'll live with this and that's a good thing.

Also, I got a call from the cemetery: they needed me to sign off on Mike's marker. The time line on a burial spot goes like this, at least in Indiana. We buried my husband's shell. He lies head to foot with his dad, as was his wish.

Someone dug a hole and then filled it up. The next day (yes, I checked), a mound of dirt covered the spot and funeral flowers in pots decorated the perimeter. A week later, the pots were dumped upside down on the mound. A few weeks beyond, the pots were gone, leaving a brown, muddy patch. And, it was still the same on September, when Zach and I chose the marker. I inquired. As it was summer and a dry summer, grass would not grow. OK. I guess they know their stuff.

When I got ready for my November road trip, I checked again. Now, grass marks the spot, almost as if nothing lies under it. Now, we have the marker ordered...slightly odd to see my name...and it will probably be spring before the work is finished.

While on my latest adventure, I got to share a meal with an old friend who happens to be a pastor. He approached this question slowly:  So, is the grief, is your pain, getting less?

I mean, it's been 6 long does it take? (Not his question)

I'll tell you. I took Ivy around the block the other day, retracing our common route. We stopped in the pocket park and sat on the same bench that Mike and I sat on so many times, discussing life, our life, and other things. Ivy and I then took the long walk around the neighborhood. Mike and I took the long walk until last spring. Then, it was time for the short walk and the many rests.

Wistful sadness. And this is only one of our places. There are so many others, now connected with wonderful memories.

I don't believe that ever stops.

But, as we approach the Christmas holidays, I must say that my heart is so full of joy, for my current life, for my married life, for the many blessings all around me. God continues to open my eyes to His care.


Oh come! Let us adore Him
Oh come! Let us adore Him
Oh come! Let us adore Him

Christ the Lord.


  1. At first I thought that bench was the marker. Went with Mom to put Christmas flowers at Daddy's and there was a bench just like it not too far from his. I'm glad you're continuing to find joy. I didn't think I would get there, and still sometimes feel a twang of guilt when I do, which is silly, not to mention 180 out from what our loved ones would want. You continue to be an inspiration and remain in my prayers. So glad to have finally met in person. If you need anything, don't hesitate to holler. - Jen

  2. I wore a gold band for seven years and it's been off my finger for over twenty years, the mark is still there.

    Thinking of you today. Looking forward to your visit this summer.

  3. A-men! XXOO from your little sis

  4. I have no wedding rings to remove, I was his sister not his wife. But, Mike and I were special. I keep his picture on my desk at work. I look at it everyday. I miss him. I still think I hear him and see him and expect his Wig-nit yelling through my back door. It will fade, but I don't really want it to. Wiggy.