What things are like now, March 11

March 11 2009

Been thinking lately about what it’s like now. 6 months

down this road. There are some really great aspects to life right now. And a lot of things that just stink.

And in much the same way as life has gone lately, so will this letter.

I’ve said this before, but I miss holding hands. I see people walking arm in arm, hand in hand, and there is an emptiness, like I dropped my ice cream on the ground. And the ice cream stores are all closed now.

There is a list of things that really can mar a day. Here is part of it.

The other half of the bed is still made up every morning when I wake up.

I have to do all the household management things by myself. Groceries, paying bills, calling people. No one to share that load with.

No one to talk through kid-raising situations. It’s not ‘How do We deal with this?’ I make all the choices and live with all the consequences. The single parent thing is tough.

I still try to call her. Just to tell her about things I’ve seen.

It hurts every time I see her class on the playground. Or in the lunchroom. Or standing in line.

I see her pictures every day, but I don’t see her.

There are more. Always more.

But living is not always gloomy.

There are times when I feel like I’m going to make it through all this. And not just barely, but abundantly.

So much grace and so many blessings. Big and small.

Little things like…

I don’t have to share the bathroom with anyone.

I can leave the toilet seat up.

More closet space. Much more closet space. I never knew there was this much closet space.

I choose the menu, the movies, the restaurants, the curtains.

There is enough hot water in the shower every day.

I can leave my stuff all over the place if I want to.

No one has taken my pillow in a long time because they liked it better than theirs.

Funny thing is, I chose the curtains she wanted. I put the toilet seat down. And most amazing for those of you who have known me longest, My room is spotless. Every day. Clothes hung and folded, put in their place. Bed made. Books lined up. Toys put away. I’ve thought maybe this is a way to feel some control, but I have actually come to like it. I know what many of you are thinking.

And yes, maybe I have gone crazy.

I don’t have to wait for her anymore, and there is no standing around while she wraps up a conversation with someone for an hour.

I can have carpet again. (Long story)

Then again.

Sometimes it’s cold at night and my only option is getting up and getting another blanket.

No more nighttime duets. Just me and the guitar now.

There is an entire library of inside jokes that will never be laughed at.

I am still saddening friends who have not yet heard of her death. I have told that story way too many times.

No one yet understands me so completely, or reads my moods and knows what to say, or do, or not say, or not do.

There are attainable dreams that will never be fulfilled.

The golden anniversary was going to be grand.

Our home is not as warm, or loud, or funny as it should be.

And yet,

Our place has been used for big dinners with friends and family. (She put down a deposit on an enormous dining room table. We have used it numerous times now)

Every day I marvel that I am privileged to live in China. It’s full of language I don’t understand, culture I am appreciating more and more. Amazing food. Such a variety of things to see every time I walk out the door.

I live near mountains for the first time in my life. I can go up and look down on a city of 6 million people, and see the Xiao Qu where I live.

I can be anonymous in the midst of thousands of people. (An introvert’s dream)

I have family who live in town. We go to their house most weekends and spend the night before we go to fellowship the next morning.

I once again get to lead worship for a group of people who are committed to answering this call on their lives.

I get to teach some of the most amazing students I have ever met. At any time I can hear up to 7 languages in a day. These kids don’t just know about places around the world, they have lived in many of them. I learn so much!

I still get to go to work and my boys are there too. Family together, able to see each other several times a day.

I am getting to coach again. And take guitar lessons from a talented guitarist.

I am learning a new language. (Slowly)

I have friends here who have become close more quickly than I could imagine. I feel cared for, invested in, loved.

There it is. What typical days can look like now. Ups and downs and in betweens.

Still trying to figure out what living will look like from now on. All I really know is what today is like and what yesterdays were like. Tomorrow is more of a mystery than ever before.

But it doesn’t have to be as bad as it has been. And it can be better than it was. Learning to just sit here. See what is brought next.

I’ll say it again. I don’t think I know as much as I did before. But what I do know, I know more deeply.

He is good. And he loves me.

And I can live in that. And be sad in that. And grieve in that. And rejoice in that. And laugh again in that.

He is good. And he loves me.

That’s been enough for 6 months now.

It will be enough for tomorrow.