A Widow’s Walk


When I last blogged I shared that I had become a widow almost three years ago. Even though I, we, knew his illness was terminal I didn’t think it would be that day. You see he had survived many close calls to the point the doctors called him “the miracle man”. The thing is he died in God’s timing, not mine.

The last thing his attending doctor said before we left the hospital was ‘if you feel any would haves, should haves, or could haves, contact me. I came to realize those things would be like an albatross. The doctor’s words were like a prayer, a reminder not to sink into the realm of poor me or darkness.

In days to come I started writing “A Widows Walk”. The word widow was foreign to me and I didn’t think it would be a label I would own. It was a word that oozed ‘black’ around it as it called one to certain types of behavior through the’ levels’ of grief. I almost felt guilty because I did not think of his transition in that way.

I have learned I don’t grieve for him but rather for me. I miss the everyday of us. The dynamics of gratitude, joy, and sorrow that was of our dance of life. A dance that grew our souls through our imperfectly/perfect selves. I miss his physical presence but joy shines through the knowing that life is everlasting and love never dies. When Bob breathed his last breath and took winged flight from his worn out container we felt peace. Some days after he passed I saw him sitting in a forested meadow with Jesus. He was leaned back on one elbow with the biggest grin and so relaxed. It was of joy.
Through the time since he transitioned I have learned, seen, and experienced things beyond anything I could have imagined and through soul whispers I have touched the heart of heaven right here on earth.

Today I am going to share the first of twenty eight (so far) Dear Bob letters. They are conversations of light and love that waft through the sanctuary of my sacred heart.
They are of ‘Soul Whispers a Breath of Life.


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