A little ...

It's been a long weekend, with my normal Friday off plus the holiday today. As usual, I get to this point of my weekend - where I realize that I must set the alarm for 4:30am and be prepared to head back to work - and I regret that I haven't accomplished all of the things I think I should have.

Actually, I've done more this weekend than usual ... cleared some piles, organized some things, got caught up on some paperwork, got the Geek Squad in here for the tv ... but it's also been a weekend where my feelings have been raw, where I've allowed probably innocent comments to hurt me, where I feel I have no true friends who really 'get' me, where I really want to just disappear. And in that rawness I believe no one would even notice. or care. or miss me.

I've never once thought of suicide in the wake of my grief. My faith carries me through the rough times I face. I know that tomorrow is a new day and I will put on that happy face and make it all work. That's what I do.  But others who are faced with those relentless grief demons often do not have the ability to fight them off.

An online friend wrote the following after learning of a widow's suicide. Her words touched me deeply and I saved them.  With the Mindy McCready tragedy in the news, I thought sharing my friend's words might help to remind us to listen for those "little" opportunities that come our way ... and to give just "a little" to perhaps make a big difference in someone's life.

I didn’t know her really, yet the story of her death…. 
Sadness is so often nearer to us than we know.
But what if we did recognize the sadness?
Whatever could we do? 
Whatever could we even say? 
We so easily disregard the power of “a little”. 
In the meantime, darkness can be as close to us as the thickness of a wall.

Doubt can live next door to us and we disbelieve it does.
Our own certainty feels weak so we don’t offer our little strength at all.

The big disregard of so many little things. 
Meanwhile despair disguises itself well. 
Hidden in a little disregard. 

But what if? 
What if we didn’t hesitate “a little”? 
What if we didn’t hold back “a little”?
What if we did “a little”? 
What if we said “a little”?
What if we dared “a little”? 
What if we acted when we got that “little” nudge? 
What if we really understood the power of “a little”?

Would our little make a big difference to someone? 
Could it matter--would it help--even just “a little”.
Our little placed in the hands of God. 
But I only read about someone who I knew a little.

~Sue Burke Lombard

Happy Birthday, My Love

I've taken our "special" days off work since Vern died. It has just always felt like the right thing to do and allowed me to feel however I needed to feel on his birthday, my birthday, our anniversary, his death date. I've not done anything special on those days. Stayed home. Inside. In my jammies. Quiet days filled with memories. And tears.

I'm grateful that I started this blog. While I haven't been a daily writer, I've still captured my feelings along the way. And it's helpful to be able to read back to earlier times. To let the words take me back to those first days, those first months, the first year. To see that time HAS made a difference. The missing him remains the same. Always will. The wound is still there. But it's healing.

Tomorrow is Vern's birthday. And I'm going into work. I thought about taking the day off again. But I think I can do this. His first birthday in Heaven was on Super Bowl Sunday; last year it was a Monday. But with it being a Wednesday this year ... well, somehow that felt reason enough to give it a try. You see, I work hard to keep my sorrow to myself. Especially at work. And I'm feeling stronger in a lot of ways, so I guess this is a test of sorts. Let's see whether I pass it.

Happy Birthday, Vern. I will always love you.