I put Come to the Edge on my Facebook page and then began to busy myself with thoughts of moving. As I walked through the house and looked at things I wanted to keep and things that need to be taken to Habitat for Humanity I sat down and wept.
I remember when we bought this house and moved into it. Not fancy but it became a mansion because of the love that was lived within its walls. Bob had just gone through two surgeries and survived a two percent chance to live. I will never forget his face when we moved in. It was filled with light and joy and thanksgiving.
As I sat with my head bowed, tears flowing, I heard, “All is well, Fred is here.” I always knew him as Fred, his nickname. Whenever things were tough he would say that to me in the middle of a bear hug.
He always said the one thing he was going to do was make me stronger. He would be proud that I had the courage to stay, by myself, these past five-plus years. They have been filled with grace and thanksgiving in the sense that I have found strength in who I am.
Through his death, I have opened to a deeper understanding of life. I have torn down walls through faith and gotten rid of masks. It is good to be comfortable in being real.
I haven’t quite made it to the edge yet, but I am getting close. It is a process. One thing I have learned through the journey of grief is no one can do it for you. It is personal.
I feel joy in knowing he is at peace and not suffering.
Thank you, God, for this breath of life.