Two Months – And Counting…

One of Jana’s profile pictures on Facebook. Taken in 1997

Two months. Two months without my best friend. Two months of trying to figure out life, death, and God.

Allyson and I were at a restaurant finishing lunch when she showed me a short video of Jana. I watched this snippet, catching the familiar movements and behavior of my wife…and I cried. Immediately Allyson felt bad, but I couldn’t stop, and it almost got ugly. I realized I had not seen anything “new” of Jana for 2 months. All of my pictures and video are familiar to me, and this was something unique.

Finding little things, like the video, are like Easter eggs. They are great to find, but it hurts quite a bit. I am sure I will find many more hidden treasures as I go through Jana’s stuff. I am not ready to sort too much yet. It’s the mixture of pain and sorrow. It sits for now.

The 7th…a horrible anniversary. A day of the month I will mentally mark for a long time. It used to be Tuesday nights and Wednesday…but the troubled memories of those weekdays are fading. One day, I will count in years…but, for now, each week is hard fought. Getting through two months has been the hardest thing I have ever done.

Boot camp was about two months. My longest time underwater on the submarine was 60 days. These events do not compare…

Within the two months, I have progressed. I have chipped away at the granite block of grief. There is an increasing pile of dust, chips, and small chunks of rock by the bottom of the stone. I have been doing my work, I have faced this pain, and I am different.

Jana’s death is a reality. I speak of it to make it real. If I am not careful, I slip into a loose denial and forget that there is a future. The wife of my youth will always be loved by me. Our years were special. She was so kind and lovely. So, I must place these thoughts and memories into a particular, high place in my heart and learn to live…again.

What will four months bring? If the Lord is willing, I will be at a different place, a further place, than I am today. Even as I write, and cry, I feel a sense of love, not just for Jana, but for my memories. This love is different. It is what I want…I want to smile, enjoy, and love my memories. Not fear them. I want to feel warmth when I think of Jana, not cold, dark pain. It can happen…it is happening.

God is our refuge and strength, a helper who is always found in times of trouble.

Psalm 46:1

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