Ash Wednesday Eve

Fat Tuesday. Shrove Tuesday. Mardi Gras. Or just the day to do a bunch of last minute things before you give them all up for Lent.  Whatever you call it, today is the day before Ash Wednesday. And so my mind is busy, trying to find a meaningful way to spend this Lenten season.  To be brutally honest, I can't recall much about Lent 2009 or 2010.  Ash Wednesday has been a terrible struggle for me over the past few years.  In 2007, Brian was home from having major surgery, and very excited and anxious for his first official Ash Wednesday.  He had only been baptized into the Catholic Church a few months before, and looked forward to participating in this tradition and ritual. This was to be one of his first outings since returning home from surgery.  He woke that morning with a high fever and throwing up, and he was crushed that his physical condition once again caused him to miss out on something. By noon, we were on the road to Columbia to eventually find out that his pancreas was not healing well, and he was battling a raging infection.

And then there is Ash Wednesday 2008, a day in which it wasn't really even an option to leave the house without causing Brian great physical pain.  You can read about that here.  I was rereading the post tonight, as I had spent a lot of time that day in reflection on the current events of our life and my feelings about my faith.  I am amazed how much I still feel the same, and how so much has not healed from watching my husband suffer, and my own suffering.  It has become a part of me.

I am in a different place right now with my faith.  I attended a Beginning Experience weekend back in November, and what a moving experience it was! I am ever thankful for it being rooted in my Catholic faith, as I was desperately in need of nurturing from my own church.  This weekend is for people who have lost a marriage either to divorce or death.  Since attending, I have decided to join the BE group and help with future retreats. I cried out in anguish so many times for God to help me make sense of my tragedy, to find some good in the devastating events of my life.  And this is allowing me to do that. By being a part of the BE team, I am also able to continue on a path of healing. I sometimes have to take a deep breath when I realize I am the youngest on the team, and the ONLY one that has been both divorced and widowed. Nice. But I have so much to offer, and I hope someone might be blessed by my story.

So I have been doing a lot of thinking about this whole Lenten thing.  I finally realized that, although I did not voice it in my blog, I feared that Brian would not live through the 40 days following Ash Wednesday that year. He was already struggling so much with the realization that he didn't have much of a future left.  He even commented about a few t.v. shows that he figured he wouldn't be alive to see the season premiers in the fall. I secretly wondered if he would live to see the spring season finales, and after his death in March, I didn't watch much t.v. just because of that.  I wondered on that day as he received ashes in our home, would he be here to celebrate Easter? Would he be well enough to go out to Mass? Would he already be dead?

If you think this is a terrifying way to live, that is an understatement. Living with someone who is dying is like dangling their life in front of you.  Even both of my sisters had announced their pregnancies, and Brian and I cried because we knew he would never see those babies (and he didn't).

As Holy Week began that year, I knew his time was short. He was in and out of consciousness, and I spent each minute of my day just comforting him and our children. As the week wore on, I begged God to take him before Easter. I feared he would die on Easter, and I knew he would not want those memories for us.  I selfishly worried that he would die in the midst of me trying to be the Easter Bunny and blow it for Tye and Amberlea.  It was a worry he had already when he was so very sick on Christmas Eve and we were making backup plans for Santa for the same reason.  But mostly I begged God to take him because his time was up, the suffering was beyond unbearable, and I didn't want him to suffer any longer.  By Holy Thursday, hospice and I anticipated him to have about another week. By Good Friday morning, I knew it would be sooner. I told the hospice nurse I wanted all his non-essential meds stopped. We tucked a large blanket under him and picked him up from his hospital bed into a sort of cocoon/sling, and carried him to our bed. As we crossed the threshhold, I knew in my heart that he would not come back out of that room alive. That day is the most prayerful day of my life, full of anguish and knowing of Christ's sufferings. He seemed to be in less pain on this day than he had for the last several. I figure it was the pain medication, but whatever caused his awareness of his suffering to lessen, I am thankful. When he died a little after 5pm, I sobbed and thought to myself...I knew he wouldn't make it through Lent.

I have been very thankful, and I still am, that if he could not stay, that God chose to take him on Good Friday. On Easter, I was very thankful that he could spend it with Jesus in Heaven.

So where am I for Ash Wednesday 2011? Hoping for continued healing. Hoping for peace. Still longing for and missing Brian like it just happened today. And hoping at the end of Lent this year, I might feel more alive with the understanding of my faith and the promise of eternal life.