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  • THE JOURNEY IS OVER (JOURNAL 90)

    3 June, 2016

    If you were to read our journal entry for this day last year, you would read the following Today's instalment… [more]

  • JOURNAL 89

    22 May, 2016

    Hi sweetheart, Sometimes I experience periods of “What if…?”. These are times when my mind seems… [more]

  • JOURNAL 88

    17 May, 2016

    Hi Darling, Coming home from the hospital with a mechanical device fitted to my chest – a P.E.G. I think it… [more]

  • JOURNAL 87

    13 May, 2016

    JOURNAL 87 The doctor said I can go home this morning. The surgery has had the desired effect and this new means of… [more]

  • JOURNAL 86

    10 May, 2016

    JOURNAL 86 MOTHER’S DAY Hello sweetheart, I haven’t spoken to our children as to… [more]

  • Journal 8 + Letter

    1 February, 2015

    I am finding that processing my grief is not something that I should try to control. If I try to do that it will be little more than a “head thing”. I have to be prepared to face up to the emotional dimension of grief and how that manifests itself in my life.  

    I’m about to write to Bev and try to explain to her some of my feelings. These “Letters to Bev” are open letters and you are welcome to read them. If you want to contact me you can click on “CONTACT” on the Home Page and write your comment. I am not connected to “Facebook” so there’s no point in leaving a message there.

    Your insight born out of your own experience is something I would love to hear.

     

    Hello, my love,

    There’s not a day that goes by without someone asking me, “How are you going?” In fact, I think I’m doing OK. That’s not to suggest that I don’t have those periods when the sense of your absence – your permanent absence – overwhelms me and the tears flow freely.

    I came across the birthday card I gave you for your 71st birthday – the first birthday subsequent to the diagnosis of MND. In it I had written that we had now entered the “home stretch”. As I read the card again the truth of that reality “undid me” and I was a mess. I don’t really expect those times to abate in the near future…and that’s OK.

    I mentioned to you while you were still here that I was going to make our garden a project. Well, I actually went and bought some new plants and have planted them with the hope that I will have better success than has been the case in the past! (You know what I mean?)

    I’ve also bought a new electric recliner. Great decision!  (Thank you Karen for your encouragement to do so). Of course, this involved re-arranging the furniture in our unit. I’m really pleased with the end result. I’m sure you would be, too.

    Actually, this is another example of how difficult it is for me to realise that you are not coming back. I half expected you to walk through the door so I could show you what I had done. Weird. But normal.

    You’ve probably noticed that I don’t write about the Lord very much. My relationship with Him is fairly “ordinary” at this stage and has been for some time.  I still carry with me each day memories of what you went through by way of suffering. I think of those times when I felt so angry because I could see no point to the ignominy of your situation.  I can still see your tear-stained face as your eyes pleaded with me and you whispered, “I can’t do this anymore”. But you did and that is why you are a woman of faith.

    Even as I write those words, I feel the pain and the anger all over again. It becomes obvious that the healing of my grief is far from complete.

    Yet, as you pointed out to me on more than one occasion, there was so much provision from our God and we   ought to keep that in our perspective. Such an encouragement was typical of the grace you displayed in the face of what that wretched disease did to you and why you were an inspiration to so many people.

    I have to go now but in my next letter I want to share with you my response to a question that has been stirring in my heart;

    “Have you forgiven God for what He allowed Bev to suffer?”

    But until then

    You remain the love of my life,

    Mike

     

     

     

     

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