Monday, October 27, 2008

Time

How can it already be a new week?? Not complaining...but this whole life in fast forward thing is getting a bit old. I keep waiting for the day when I suddenly wake up and I'm 80. As I try to recall what I have spent my time doing, that is where I have the problem.

I can't remember.

All I know is that I subbed a couple times, had three Tastefully Simple parties last week (those were the highlight), have been dealing with Tim's little fender bender, and somewhere in there went to the dentist for the first time out here.

Ah. The dentist.

Super nice office people here. Told me I had great teeth (do they say this to everyone???) and then the dentist told me that I must grind or clench at night.
Yucky.
I was actually shocked...and
I was mortified.

And if you know me...you know that there is a story behind why I feel this way. Because Tim grinds his teeth at night. Hard. And when he came back from Iraq, it was SO bad. I told him to either find a mouthguard or find a new wife. Seriously. It would wake me out of a dead sleep, and he didn't realize he wasn't sleeping well at all either because of it. So, he listened and problem solved. Who would have known that a mouthguard could save a marriage?!

Well, now I guess I have the problem.
Including headaches when I wake up.
No doubtedly, brought on by stress.
Shocker.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Back to the dentist.
The assistance was super nice. Talked to me for awhile. Due to filling out the new paperwork with being a new patient, I had to give my history...meds I was on...all the fun stuff.

So of course, she asked about the baby.
I had to tell her.
And of course...she started to cry.


And she looked at me and just said,
"I know there is nothing I can say...but just know that I am so sorry."

And as I think back, it made me remember something else. Because I had said the exact same thing to someone not so long ago...Standing in the kitchen with a Marine wife, whose husband had just been killed. On her fridge was a little kids picture...a countdown calendar...

87 days until daddy comes home!

The family had just found out...the countdown had remained untouched. The answering machine unchanged. And as I stood there talking to her, she said something I understood even back then.
"There is nothing anyone can do for me..."

She was just saying something that anyone who has ever lost someone close has felt, it wasn't mean, she was just being honest. And I knew she was right. Nothing anyone does or says can make it magically disappear. And I cried, because I felt helpless and wanted to help, but knew that I couldn't. And as I looked at her little kids, I would have done anything to try and make it disappear. But I couldn't. I also knew the one thing NOT to say..."I understand." Because the truth was, I really didn't. My husband was still alive. There weren't any kids I had to make understand why their dad wasn't coming home.

And at the time, when I brought her over food. It had felt so inadequate. So besides the food, I have made a point to pray for that family, and remember that Marine...every single day. Because you don't want others to forget someone you loved...or love...or still remember every single day when other people go humming about their lives.

Why am I writing about all of this? I have just felt compelled to share with everyone, that I know how much people must fret over saying the right things, or what to do, when something like this happens.
I've been there.

But now, after having gone through this...still going through this...I wanted to share just how much I am grateful for all the things so many people have done. And all the things people continue to do. What has been a light in this endless black hole. I have truly appreciated the thoughts and prayers. The cards and notes, even months later, probably...honestly...I need even more now. Because life gets "insane" and busy...and people seem to forget.

But we never do...and when people do remember...it just means a lot.

This weekend, I came across an awesome website. It is from Focus on the Family and the topic is "What NOT to say..."
Its great.
It speaks in relevance to miscarriage...but I think it can be applied to so much more. I especially like the "God has a purpose" bit.

Words can play such a crucial role in grieving. Actions speak even louder. When a long time friend stopped by out of the blue with bags of groceries from our favorite store just a day after we came home, I was so touched it brought tears to my eyes. And it was the most perfect thing for so many reasons.

Because Tim and I have a weakness. And that is asking for anything...especially help. So when people say, "Let us know if we can do anything...Or, let us know if you need anything"
We don't.
Even though there was a ton of things we had to do but just couldn't.
Like go to the store.
Or cut the grass.
Or even walk Sophie because we weren't ready to face the world outside of the walls of our house.

And I know people want to help.
They want to know what to do.
They want to know what to say or how to make it better.
And the truth is, even if its only the words that the dental assistant spoke...it is better than saying nothing.

And honestly, what she said was perfect.

1 comment:

carriekuipers said...

You are right! The worst thing to hear from people is advice when they have not been through what you have been through. The best thing for people to do is listen - sometimes we don't want to hear advice we just need to talk about what happened.
Hang in there - your days of sorrow will turn to JOY!