It’s Been 10 Years, But It Still Hurts and That’s Okay

It’s been 10 years since Rena went to Heaven. She was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma in January 2011. We were told this type of cancer was highly treatable and even curable. We were also warned that there was a small chance that part of her chemotherapy could affect her lungs. The risk of not getting treatment far outweighed the possible side effects of getting it, so it only made sense to proceed with chemotherapy.

Rena began treatment in February 2011 and was on a 2 week regimen. Midway through the process tests were run proving that chemotherapy was working as hoped for. She was getting better! Her last treatment would be in the middle of August 2011 and we would go on with life! We were optimistic, grateful, and elated! But then things changed.

In June 2011 Rena began having breathing problems. They became so severe we ended up at the hospital. We knew many chemotherapy patients had to be hospitalized to “get over the hump” of the side effects, so we weren’t too concerned at this point. We thought she’d spend a couple of days getting iv fluids and medication that would get us back on track. Unfortunately that was not the case.

A few days in to the stay, it became clear that Rena’s condition was worsening. Her breathing became more labored. Her O2 saturation began dipping in the 80’s. After 5 days in a regular room she was taken to the ICU. A few days later she was diagnosed with Bronchiolitis Obliterans Organizing Pneumonia (BOOP lung disease). Part of her chemotherapy caused this. Her lungs were slowly losing their ability to function. Over the next few weeks this disease took its toll. On Monday, August 8, 2011 Rena died and Heaven got a lot sweeter.

Losing Rena rocked my world and broke my heart. We had been married 21 years, had 2 wonderful children, and pastored an amazing church. Life was great, and now she was gone. I was acquainted with grief from a distance before then. I had walked alongside many parishioners and friends who lost loved ones. On August 8, 2011 I met grief face to face. And it moved in with me. It was uninvited, unwanted, and unwilling to be evicted from the home. Since I couldn’t kick it out or wish it away, I decided I would learn how to deal with it. Here is what I did.

First, I gave myself permission to simply feel each of the feelings I was being bombarded with. Grief brings them all with it and it was impossible (and unhealthy) to ignore them, so I spent time with each one as they came. You may think this is a “no brainer”, but for me it was HUGE. By nature, I am more a thinker than a feeler. I loved watching the original Star Trek when I was a kid and identified more with Mr. Spock than Captain Kirk. It honestly took intentional effort for me to acknowledge what I was feeling at any given moment and find healthy ways to express it.

I shed more tears over Rena’s death than I had in decades. I pounded out a lot of my anger and frustration on the pavement while running. I wrote regularly in a journal about what I was feeling and gave myself permission to not be pastoral, polished, or polite. I simply wrote what I was plainly feeling I prayed more often, but for shorter amounts of time, begging God to help me and asking Him why all of this happened. (Many of those prayers were prayed through gritted teeth and I found out that was okay. God is big enough to handle that.) He honored and answered my former request, but the latter is still unanswered. I’ve learned to live with that.

Another thing I did was read and study my way through my grief. Since I am wired to analyze and think my way through things, this made sense to me. I consumed several books and articles on death, grief, and mourning. Most were faith-based and written by professional counselors. The one that helped me the most was A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis. He lost a wife like I did.

Perhaps the most important thing I did to get through that time was reach out to people who had lost loved ones and ask them how they got through it. I specifically sought out men I knew who lost a wife and asked them if we could talk over lunch. Hearing their stories helped me realize I wasn’t alone and that one day things would get better. It is impossible for me to overstate how valuable this was to helping me work through those dark days. I will forever be grateful to those who took the time to do this for me. God used them to help get me to where I am today.

Of all the things I learned through grieving Rena’s death, here are the things that stand out 10 years later….

“This will never be easy, but it will get easier.” Richard Arrant told me this. He didn’t lose a wife to death, but he had lost a father by the time he told me this. Some years later he lost his mother. Richard knew what he was talking about not because he had studied it. He experienced it. And now, so have I. Time has a way of healing many things. I don’t hurt today like I did 10 years ago. You are right, Richard. It has gotten easier. Thank you for that.

“It gets easier, but it never goes away.” Rita Young told me this. She lost her husband a few years before I lost Rena, so I put a lot of stock in what she had to say. Rita had been through the darkest days of grief and come out on the other side. She knew that things had gotten easier for her, but she was also aware that there would always be reminders her husband wasn’t with her anymore and those times would still be hard. VERY hard.

I’ve learned she was right. Even though it is less frequent, there are still times when I am painfully aware of Rena’s absence. Both of our children are now grown and married. At each of their wedding ceremonies they wonderfully acknowledged their mom, who they still love and miss. This was good and right for them to do. It was also painful for them and me. I know she’s in Heaven, but it sure would’ve been nice to have her around to see the kids get married.

Earlier this year my son and daughter-in-law had their first child, my first grandbaby. I am above and beyond elated for them and ME! J After traveling to see this sweet baby face to face earlier this year, I came back through Louisiana and visited Rena’s grave. I wept like a baby telling her about her granddaughter. I learned a long time ago it is better to let those tears come and go, so that’s what I did. You were right, Rita. It does get easier, but it never goes away.

“It’s okay if you ask me about my daughters. Honestly, it helps me to know they haven’t been forgotten.” Ed Fleming told me these words. He was one of the ones I talked to a few months after Rena died. Ed and Teresa lost two teenage daughters in a tragic car accident. If anyone knew anything about grieving, I figured they did. What I wasn’t sure of was if it was okay to talk with them about what they went through. I certainly didn’t want to bring them anymore pain. What I did want was help, so I took the risk and asked. I was relieved to hear his reply. Ed and Teresa knew they thought about their girls every day, but were unsure who else remembered them and found comfort in the fact that others did.

I get that. I think about Rena regularly. I see her in our children. I hear her in their voices when they sing. When I hear them play the keyboard, I’m reminded of who they got their musical talent from. When we get together we often talk about things she said or did. Some of those things make us laugh while others make us cry, but we still remember her. Rena was too good a person to be forgotten and it really does help to know others remember her, too. Thanks, Ed, for helping me realize this.

I think more about Rena around this time every year. It has gotten easier to do so because it’s now been 10 years since she passed away. Even though it’s been a decade, sometimes it still hurts and that’s okay. They only way it wouldn’t hurt is if I hadn’t loved her. And that would hurt worse.

If you are grieving the loss of a loved one, I understand. You are not alone and you are not forgotten. I found help from God and His people by reaching out. I encourage you to do the same.

“Blessed are those who mourn, For they shall be comforted.” - Matthew 5:4

“3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. “ - 2 Corinthians 1:3-4