A Letter to God - Leaving the Door Open

Good morning God,

This morning I woke up at 5:00 (I’ve done a lot of that lately).  Exactly three weeks ago my wife Shannon left me went to be with you.  How can it only be three weeks ago?  It seems like a lifetime.

I’ve struggled with how I feel I ‘should’ grieve.  I never wanted to be ‘that guy’: the guy who stuffed his grief down deep and pretended to move on, the guy who kept himself busy so he didn’t have to think of his loss, the guy who didn’t cope well. 

Before Shannon died I imagined myself pining away for her, missing her at every turn, struggling to believe that she had died.  I’ve been surprised to find my brain fully capable of comprehending the fact that she is not here.  It’s like I finished reading a really good book.  I enjoyed it while it lasted but I knew that eventually I came to the end and it’s time for a new one.   Perhaps all the work Shannon and I did over the years to ‘live in the moment’ is coming to fruition.  I’m in the moment and the moment doesn’t involve a wife to live with and laugh with.   It’s a new reality.

At moments the tears still flow but in many other moments I am learning what it is to ‘read a new book.’  I’m reengaging in my work.  I’m having creative conversations with folks around Shannon’s business (ok, there’s another weird thing…it was always ‘my wife’s business’).  I’m getting together with people to watch football and chat (something I haven’t been free to do in years).   I admit that sometimes I feel guilty for enjoying myself too much.  Shouldn’t I be pining away??  People still come with their long faces and ask, “How are you doing?”  I want to give some deep, poignant answer, but the reality is that at most moments I’m doing just fine.  Perhaps I’m fully in denial, but I’m finding ways to move ahead into this new life.

Yesterday one of Shannon’s best friends sent Ben and me a package.  Laura had taken quite a few of Shannon’s ‘Beauty Each Day’ photos and turned them into a book.  The note with it struck me deeply.  Laura lost her mother a while back and she shared some words that Shannon had offered to her in her dark days:

A doorway doesn’t need a door---it can be a giant window to what lies behind and what goes on next.  You aren’t expected to shut it firmly behind you and not look back, or think about what is in the space behind it.  You can leave it wide open and cautiously move ahead while keeping all that is behind you fully in view.  Even as time goes by and you venture off to the doorway into the new space, you can return to the doorway between any time you like, and bask, and reflect, and ponder.

God, I have walked through that doorway.  Last Sunday night at our Bishop’s Theological Conference we had a service for the remembrance of the saints.  I stood in that doorway and lit a candle in Shannon’s memory.  The tears flowed.  This morning in worship our congregation will celebrate ‘All Saints Day’ (a week behind, but that’s how People of Hope rolls sometimes!).  Ben and I will together stand at the door and remember.  We will receive the reassurance that you have conquered death for your people…for Shannon.  It will be hard, but as Ben says, “Dad, we need to do this.” 

God, help me to keep that door open.  When it is appropriate, bring me to that door to look back and remember.  At other times, lead me into the new life you provide.

Thank you for allowing Laura to share Shannon’s words with me.