Temporary Existence

Your voice lingers in my memories, these memories that are fading quietly into the distance. I desperately try to grab hold, clawing my way back to the times that made sense. Because, this time doesn’t make sense anymore, or, I have found, it makes perfect sense, depending on the way that you look at it.

You see, before you died I believed in this temporary existence more than I believed in the unseen realm that continues on forever. But, now that it is the time that exists after you are gone, this all just doesn’t make sense anymore. This temporary, tangible reality makes no sense to me. What makes more sense is that you are still here, just out of reach, listening to my voice and smiling at the way I move my mouth or give a sideways glance when I am nervous. You are still here and waiting until we all join you in eternity.

For, how can you have once been here, full of the most genuine, boyish, electric, charisma, and then in an instant, be gone forever?

Our temporary existence is lingering all around me. Examples reminding me that it is true, this is all a fleeting time, moments slowly evaporating like the fog that hovers over the river at dawn. So temporary that I struggle to understand if it is even really happening. And, if it is happening, where do these moments go after they are gone?

For, if I am not mistaken, my eyes see these moments take place and my heart fills with joy as they play out. Then, they are gone, evaporated into the flow of the river that separates the beginning from the end. Where does this temporary existence go? Are these moments still here, everywhere and nowhere all at once?

I think so. They must be. Because, those times, those precious moments that only you and I shared, make up the all encompassing love that radiated out of our skin. Skin that was so electric to our touch, full of so much life that there is no way it dies. Those moments that I can’t relive with another person while I am in this temporary existence, ache to be talked about, ache to be laughed about, and ache to be cried about. Anything but stuck in my head without hope of leaving my tongue.

And so I will do these things. Laugh and cry, live into the memories of our temporary existence because there is no other choice. I will do this alone until we are reunited and can do this together. I will also make new memories, full of life and wisdom that only comes from living into my reality. A reality that I didn’t ask for or predict, but a reality that is part of our story. This story that continues on with my eternal soul living in this temporary existence until it meets yours once again.

Driving East

I drive slowly away from the shadow of our dream, my love. You are sitting quietly next to me in the passenger seat, your box wrapped tightly in the shirt that you wore when we explored the East Coast for the first time. Flashes of that time cross my mind as I bite my lip and head East. I attempt to hold onto these images instead of the one that is my reality. Instead of your beautiful smile and hand on my knee, I ride with your ashes by my side and your shirt wrapped tightly around the box. 

My body is still, my eyes are straight ahead, and my heart still aches with an ache that most don’t know, as of yet.

My mind is racing from the past to the present and hesitantly towards the future. I am moving away from our Portland home, my love. It’s time. I can feel you so close to me that my heart races with anticipation that perhaps you will appear, ever so close yet just out of reach, but perhaps you will appear this one time if I just hold onto the memories a little longer.

Death is a funny thing, my love. Oh how I long to talk to you about the crazy ups and downs, the way that this world is spinning so fast and out of control while I grasp for the reins to try to slow it down a bit.  I think if you were here we could make sense of it together, talk about the secrets of the world, and then figure out that we really don’t know anything but that it’s ok because we have love. Pure, unmessy, unconditional, time stopping, love. But, I can’t talk to you yet, my love. So I rely on the ten thousand words we shared before you were gone.

So, I drive. I drive quietly with a hope for the road ahead of me. When I met you I dropped everything and followed you. We walked up countless mountains together; always with you in the lead and me smiling as I watched your legs lead me uphill. We talked about these hikes, these tangible examples of how I would follow you anywhere, forever.  Our respect for one another growing every second as we figured out that the only true thing in this world is the love that God gave us to share with the utmost respect. Nothing more.

As the miles pass I think about the love that we shared, this rare kind of love that not everyone is open to having because they are scared of the unknown. As the sun rises and falls with every passing day, I will remember this love. I will hold onto this truth and remind myself that this was not a dream, because, my love, sometimes it feels like a dream.

I reach the Hood River Bridge and I feel like I am home. I feel your strength and I know that you are happy to be back to where it all started for us. I think about that time and I smile. You are here, my love, you will always be here. As I continue my journey back where we started, I will carry you with me, my love, and I will continue what you started. Living life to the fullest and changing the world, ever so slightly, with my eagerness to see it all.

Moving Forward

I feel acutely aware that I am a completely different person than I was before my husband passed away. At times I feel like I can move mountains with my steady faith and powerful voice. Other times I feel as though I am tiny and weak, waiting for someone to tell me what to do next, to help me find my way in a world that, to me, seems bleak and exhausting.

I have found that the secret is living between these two realities, the powerful moments and the weak moments, embracing both feelings for what they are, the same reality in a different form.

I have come to know that my strength is my weakness asleep.

With this journey one aspect that has continuously felt off is the amount of stuff I am surrounded with. As I said, I feel I am acutely aware that I am a completely different person than I was when Curt was here. Now, when I think about life and the things that surround me, I also think about my husband’s body being ashes in a box sitting quietly next to my bed. I think about the fact that it simply doesn’t matter what we have or don’t have in material possessions and has everything to do with what we have or don’t have in our souls. I am acutely aware that I see the world through a different lens.

As I reflect on these truths, I walk around the house that my beautiful husband and I created together with quiet wonder. The sweet memories of laughing and crying, tenderness and strength, overwhelm my senses and make me lose my breath. I can touch the smooth surface of the counters he built with his strong hands and the rough surface of the beautiful chimney that he slowly and painstakingly chipped dry wall off of so we could enjoy the original beauty of our 1903 home. I can see where we slept on the floor the night we got the keys and didn’t want to leave our new dream. The tangible signs of our love are everywhere; this both comforts me and exhausts me.

This week I am beginning to go through it all and consolidate so I can move out of our home. As I begin this step, I feel overwhelmed with the idea that I have to look at a piece of our history and make a decision. How do I begin, and, if I know that this stuff doesn’t really matter, then why am I having such a hard time letting go of it? A close friend said something that has helped me with this, he said… It’s just stuff, stuff isn’t real, but the feelings you feel when you see it, are very real… That was it. I feel so unattached to stuff yet feel desperate when I think of no longer seeing Curt’s shirts or his tools. That is it, the stuff is absolutely not real yet the feelings that I get when I touch them are more real than I can describe in my earthly terms.

As I touch this stuff that surrounds me for perhaps the last time, my weakness surrounds me and I grasp for its opposite as I begin the journey onward.

Over a year ago I lost my whole world on the river. My home, my lover, my best friend, my everything. Through this loss, through this journey of anguish, I have also found something beautiful. I have found a woman that can do anything because the one thing she didn’t think she could do, she has already done. A woman who now understands more than she ever could have imagined she could, or ever would, know. I have found truth in a world that is spinning out of control. As I walk into this next chapter, I do so with beautiful memories etched deep into my heart. I walk forward with my husbands heart in my own and will slowly let go of the rest.  

Illusion of Control

After Curt passed away I felt almost immediately overcome with the realization that God is leading our paths. As I sat there on the ground, unable to move while my body shook with grief, I had a strange realization in that moment that it is so much bigger than we are. Even in the midst of the greatest pain you can imagine, I knew that I had no control. This both infuriated me and comforted me. I pictured my hand being pried open and my life becoming liquid, flowing quickly through my open palm, draining freely through my fingers and down my arm while I desperately tried to clasp it tightly to save what was left.

 Over this last year I tasted for the first time the freedom that comes from completely surrendering to no control. Letting go of the tight grasp I had on what I think I need. As the months began, as the fog surrounded me, I walked in a daze. My thoughts snapped from death to life to despair to hope, and then back again through the sequence. I genuinely felt for the first time, that It doesn’t matter how hard I try to control anything, what is meant to be will be through my trust and hope in God, only. I had no need for control any longer; I was free from the chains.

All that said, as the months have gone on and the fog has lifted, I am realizing that my humanity has started to kick in once again.  Control tries to sneak in and rear its ugly head. Being a woman with a deep heart and a passion for things I do not see, control is a word with heavy meaning. So, I dissect this thought of control, giving it the fair attention that it deserves. Why do I try to control the things around me when I have tasted the freedom that comes from completely being surrendered to the absolute fact that we do not have control?

The illusion of control is something we all struggle with. We think we know what we need or want based on emotions and desires of our heart and mind. We often struggle with letting go. This physical life that we see around us continually impacts us to grasp onto what makes us feel safe or loved. Without thought or foreknowledge we become captive to the illusion that we have control. Once this happens, once we think we want something, we try to make it happen. That in and of itself is not the problem, the problem lies in that sometimes what we think we need is not what is meant for us. God’s plan is much bigger than ours and when He closes a door, when do we know to walk away?

We try to control our lives by planning it all out, having families that we idolize more than God, romantic partners that are not right for us, advancement opportunities in careers we think we deserve, revenge on someone that has wronged us, doing what it takes to win whether right or wrong… and the list goes on. The illusion that we can control these things based on the premise that we know what is best for our lives, is a rabbit hole of disappointment. Even bigger than the problem of disappointment are the feelings of despondency that emanates in us when it doesn’t turn out the way we wanted it to. When we lose what we think we need or want, our confidence and self-worth are hindered.

Through all of these examples of control, in their loss, our confidence in our abilities to make the right decisions, suffers.  Through our lack of ability to make something turn out the way that we want it to, our hearts feel down and our mind skips to trying to find another way that it could possibly work so that our self esteem can be regenerated.  That is the rabbit hole of disappointment and that is the problem with our human instincts of not letting go of control. Our self worth can not be found in these earthly interactions.

God gave us feelings and desires that we struggle to comprehend. As I now know what it is like to let go of control, I pray daily to continue to have the grace to do so. I know God’s plan is much bigger than ours. I know that through Him I am going to do amazing things that are bigger than the greatest thing that I can imagine, but it will not be on my understanding of greatness but on His. Finding the balance of following God's lead while continuing to take steps of faith, is the harmonious ground in which I strive to walk upon.

Isaiah 55: 8-9 For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the Heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Risking it All for Love

This week has been spent in a beautiful time of sharing about a man who changed the world in his short time on earth. Tears of sadness and tears of joy flowed freely as Curt’s beautiful name rolled effortlessly off our tongues.

This beautiful man stole our hearts... there is no doubt about that.

As I spoke with countless family and friends, one theme that seemed to come up over and over was how Curt seemed to have figured it out. A life of balanced harmony.As more and more people shared how they aspire to live their life as Curt did, it made me pause to figure out what it was that made Curt so unique, so rare, and so charismatic.

My heart pondered this as my mind replayed his easy smile and seemingly endless energy and boundless strength. I thought about our ten thousand quiet conversations we had together on the secrets of life and our understanding of what this world is all about. I thought about his huge dreams and our mile long list of goals. I thought about our life, our decisions, our huge strides we made together in such a short period of time. It was then that it hit me...

Curt had it figured out because he was not afraid to risk it all when he saw potential.

He took risks that led him to finding a beautiful wife, an awesome career, friendships that are like family, and faith that could move mountains.

He saw what he wanted and he went for it. If he was gonna risk, he was gonna risk big and that is how he figured it out.

I have realized that this is not how everyone lives their lives. Often we are so concerned with what will happen if we make the wrong choice or take the wrong path that we never experience the feeling of freedom that you get when you realize that the risk that you took led you to a place of such beauty that you never even knew it existed. God’s perfect chapter.

So often we are afraid of this kind of consequential risk. What if it doesn’t work out? What if I fail? What if I put my heart out on a limb and someone gets hurt? What if the job turns out to be unstable and I lose it all? What if I don’t have enough money? What if I take too much time off of work and don’t have vacation for when I need it? Risk comes is so many forms. We are so concerned about the consequence that we lose sight of the fact that we are not promised any more time than the present moment, and that too can change in an instant.

It seems to me that the scariest part of humanity is that so often we let the fear of the unknown stop us from living into our own individual, infinite possibilities.

When I met Curt and decided to get rid of all my stuff and move into a tent by the river, risk was an understatement. We didn’t know what we were doing and we certainly didn’t know that our love was going to be the kind of magical love that stops time. But, what we did know was that when we talked about life and listened to each others hearts, there was a freedom in knowing that we both felt like better people when the other was around. So, the tent it was and after that first act of life altering risk, our lives changed forever.

Curt lived by the principle of faith. He didn’t spend more time wondering if he was going to fail or get hurt than he did in taking action to become the man he wanted to be. 

I have to admit there are times I falter now. I wonder if perhaps I should rein it in, take a step back so as not to get hurt again. But, I know that is not how I got this beautiful life we created. I know that in order to have a big life you have to have big risk.

So often we settle for so little when God called us for so much more. God’s plan is bigger than ours. When you look around at the incredibly vast mountain ranges and perfectly formed rivers, we realize that our lives are called to be just as great. Curt, I will continue to hold true to risking it all for love. Go big or go home, baby.

Chapters of Life

Recently I was sitting in the sun and something happened. It was as if something shifted ever so slightly. I looked around and it was as if something had lifted. I couldn’t pin point it at first. I could only sigh with the moment, my current reality. I tried to see what had changed, what had shifted from the moment before. I was still the same, yet newness had begun. I looked at the stuff that has been surrounding me over the last year and I realized that a chapter has closed. My beautiful earthly chapter that God gave me, designed specifically for Curt and myself, has closed. As I am very aware that I carry his heart in my own, our physical chapter with each other has been put on pause.

The man with beautiful blue eyes, chiseled features, humble grace, contagious laughter and exuberant, boyish energy, is now waiting for me in the next chapter. I’ve cried so many tears over this last year that I know I could fill the rivers. But, in that moment, I felt peace.

Someone asked me recently how I was feeling about facing the week that Curt died. As I paused, analyzing how I felt, I vaguely felt I should answer that I am devastated or overcome with sadness, that I should live up to what others expect me to say. But, as I do feel those feelings often, what I felt in that moment was that I feel as if I just woke up, just starting to feel alive again, but when I look around Curt is not here. This realization makes me time and time again pause in quiet wonder. Pausing to try to comprehend how we can survive such deep pain in this life and keep going.

Curt thought I hung the moon. I had never felt someone look at me the way that he did. Last night I was talking with an older gentleman who has been married forever. He shared of when he met his wife, how he was mesmerized by her beauty and grace. He said “I thought she was Holy, I would have done anything to have her”. I smiled through my tears. That is how Curt looked at me. He cherished our love, our precious time together. He wrote me love notes and he opened the door for me. He constantly whispered in my ear that I was the prettiest girl in the room. He believed I was Holy and I believed he was the most intricately, perfect man I had ever met. God’s perfectly designed chapter for both of us.

 

When Curt was here I used to witness to others that were looking for their love chapter. I remember wanting to inspire others of the kind of love that God gives us. Love that never hurts and always protects, the kind of love that you can’t get enough of, that inspires you to be a better person because of the person that is standing next to you. When you look into your partner’s eyes and feel as though you can do anything, and are inspired to do so, that is love. After losing Curt I am even more inspired to witness to others that this exists, to hold out and to not to settle for less. Curt would tell you the same thing if he were standing here holding my hand; I know this because we finished each other’s hearts and sentences.

 

 As I think about my earthly chapter with Curt coming to a close, I can’t help but look forward to the next one. Partly because I know the faster I get through another chapter the faster I get to be with Curt. But also because I know God has designed my next chapter as perfectly as he has the last. I know that my life is shaped by love, God’s love. As I am waking up after this last year of rest, I have a feeling His plan is bigger than mine. 

I hold you so tightly, my love, deep in my heart. I love you equal, I love you to the moon, I love you for eternity. 

Transparency

I often speak of the strength that I find within myself. The feeling I have that God is leading my path, this curvy road that led me to where I am now, with so many twists and turns that I know no map could have gotten me here on my own. I write of this strength often because I feel it is part of my identity, this identity that God is revealing to me daily. This strength that is ingrained in my heart, my heart that belongs to not only me, but to my love.

But, there are times that I don’t feel strong. I ache with an ache that can’t be described to those who have never felt it. It overcomes my core and I shake with anxiety. Let me try to find my earthly words to explain, in hope that it may help those who need it. For, what good is it to share your strength, if you don’t share your weakness? 

I’ve been feeling a strong urge to run away. To be rid of the burdens that seem to weigh on my shoulders, these shoulders that feel like they strain to continuously stay pulled back, strong in demeanor, ready for the next battle and ready to look as if I have it together. I long to run away, to be rid of the title that seems to quietly sneak into my conscious, a title that makes my heart cry out, fighting against this word with all it has.

Widow.

I struggle to stay present because everything in me wants to either rewind or fast forward. This present moment cries out for my attention and my intention is to always answer the cry, give this present moment the respect that it deserves, for, I now know, we have nothing if we don’t have this present moment. But, I don’t want to give this moment my attention. My heart turns away from this moment as if it is electric and it wants to escape the shock. So often this happens that I have to diligently remind my heart to turn back, look at those around me, and smile for the moment that I am granted.

But, when I do, when I look at those around me, I am reminded that Curt is not standing next to them. That I am a widow and that I don’t get to fast forward to when it may seem even less foggy than this current reality that is vastly less foggy then it was a year ago. It is a cycle. The endless cycle of grief.

My heart aches for Curt. It bleeds for Curt. It pours out bloody tears that mix together and I feel weak from their loss. The mess that pours out of me is so extravagant that I struggle to hide the pool that slowly surrounds my feet. This puddle that shows my weakness and is a tangible sign of my reality, I desperately try to clean it up without others getting concerned. Hoping that all they can see is the girl with her shoulders held back and her eyes towards tomorrow.  The amazingly transparent girl that Curt married, the girl that holds his heart in her own, the girl that believes she can move mountains and change the world. 

Widow.

I know these moments, to, will pass. I know this because I am becoming a veteran at this… this title, these feelings, this loss of bloody tears. I now understand the weight of the word. The weight of the darkness that surrounds you when you are bleeding, and I know well the feeling when it passes and the bleeding stops, if even for a little while.

I began these words by talking about my strength, and I did so for a reason. My strength is in simple, humble faith. In Jesus. I don’t know how I would keep walking without His light. Without Him here to help me clean up my bloody mess. He is there, right beside me, helping me with the burden of clean up.

Widow.

I will walk by faith, even if I can’t see the road ahead of me, and, sometimes, when I can’t even see the ground beneath me because of the mess. When I see nothing but water ahead of me, I will keep walking with unfaltering faith, until the water parts. I will keep walking toward the water, getting my feet steady, ready to move a mountain and change the world.