92

It has been 92 days.


In 92 days, she has celebrated 2 birthdays, acknowledged another, made it through an anniversary, a Mother's Day, a hospitalization of her mother, a hospitalization of her father, a death of a family pet, a dance recital, lead a very large conference, a surgery for her father, a family retreat and in 5 days, she will make it through the first Father's Day since the passing of her husband; 92 days ago.

Her closest friends are telling her she has to move on. She has to keep going. They advise her to look at the 'good things.' They do not mention her husband’s name nor acknowledge memories. In 92 days, she has been the solid foundation for her children's grief. In the safeness of their home, they grieve openly and at the end of the day, they unwind after keeping their hearts in control so that others do not remark that daddy is in a better place or to say that children are resilient, or to keep on celebrating the new normal.

In 92 days, she has bagged up all her husband's clothing, gave away the bed they once shared, made a room for herself and has dwindled her husband's life into 7 storage bins. But, they tell her to move on and accept that he is gone.

Each of these 92 days, she has found reason to praise and be thankful. She has made it through every heart wrenching detail on her own. Each of these 92 days, she has proven to her children that yes, they can be resilient, but that does not mean that daddy is forgotten, they are able to all grieve together and still praise God together, and she is still mom and is required to be solid. But they tell her to move on and they show her in ways of abandonment, excusing, redirecting and/or ignoring.

In these past few days, she has questioned herself - the woman who is holding the hands and spirits of her children, she questions if perhaps they are right. Is she supposed to move on, seek a new normal, pack up the 7 tubs, close the door and be done? Is it healthy for her and her children to stifle the memories, the moments, the montage of experience in front of family and friends? Is this what grief is about - after 92 days?

92 days will soon turn into 184 days, 364 days, 728 days, 1456 days and so on. Each of those days, she will continue to build, to exist in this new life, to strengthen the resolve of her children, and to remember the father and the husband that was a part and is a part of them. In 92 days, her husband’s life has been a viable piece to each of them. He is alive to them in so many ways.

People could have learned a great deal from her in these past 92 days.

".....but seeing those seven tubs downstairs. Seven tubs. A man's life reduced to seven plastic tubs. David's life. That is all there is left. All that is here. I know that David's life meant so much more - he touched so many people, reached into their lives, came to where they were at, valued them, comforted them, taught them, lifted them up, led them into God's presence, worshipped God with them. He impacted so many people. I don't want Him to be forgotten. I don't want it come down to seven tubs. My heart cries out. How can a man that great - who touched so many - start to be forgotten so quickly. "