Day 47

Thursday, April 22, 2010
Day 47 – The year 2080. I saw this date on a t.v. commercial and immediately felt a sense of joy. I didn't plan to see it nor did I plan for that emotion. It just happened. Joy because I knew I'd be long gone by 2080. Earth will no longer be my home. Far as I can guess, my last years (should I live the average lifespan) puts me at 2045.
And for as morose as that sounds the joy I was feeling was because of the truth that I'm barely clinging to every day – that my time on Earth is brief. And moreso, my time in Heaven is forever! And guess who is in Heaven?! Guess who I get to laugh with, talk with, enjoy life with? Leigh Ann Tonkinson! Leigh Ann, who is already in Eternity, who already knows the beauty, the joy, the purity, the wonder, can't not be where I will be in a short four decades. The double negative is for emphasis that whatever else life has to offer me by way of trial, pain, suffering, hardship, should I lose a limb, my house, my job – all of this I can endure in light of "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow Me; and I give eternal life to them, and they shall never perish; and no one shall snatch them out of My hand." (John 10:27)
In that brief moment a few nights ago while watching t.v. life became somewhat doable.
I'd stop there with, but that would be too easy for you to possibly conclude that my world is better now. That all is good, and we can all move on. I'm afraid that will never be so. Life will never be "good" in the sense that I used to know "good." Good used to mean purely good, with no strings attached. Watching the kids swim was good, vacations were good, date nights were good, funny stories were good, cuddling was good, kissing was good, loving was good. Life will never be purely good again because every good moment now is overshadowed by the dark shadow of death. I will always wish Leigh were here to experience the good moments with me and I'll always be sad that she's not. Every good moment now has a "Leigh Ann factor" built in. How could it not?
I asked a dear friend, who is glorifying God through being an expert surgeon, to interpret Leigh's autopsy report. He graciously sent me a lengthy, detailed interpretation. I was numb after reading the email. My friend hated writing it and I hated reading it. Leigh didn't die a peaceful, fall asleep and never wake up death. As this experienced trauma surgeon put it, "She suffered a devastating injury," "…completely incompatible with survival." She was hit by another car so hard that she died instantly and her car flipped on to its top. It wasn't neat and comfortable and pretty. It was horrific, and ugly. I replay the accident in my head several times a day. My dislike for the other driver has not lessened. I have immense anger toward someone who drives so recklessly especially since it has been concluded that he was not impaired with drugs or alcohol.
Had two dreams this week involving Leigh Ann. Something new for me. I was hoping this would happen. Now that it has, I'm not sure I knew what I was wishing for. Details are foggy, but what I do remember is she was as beautiful as the day she left for work the morning she died (short hair, smiling, talking). One of the dreams lasted for quite some time and I remember being so excited that she was still alive and that we had to hurry and tell others the good news. It was an awesome few hours of sleep. My entire being was overwhelmed with happiness. Even writing this my heart feels happy. We walked together, smiled at each other, hugged. I kept grinning and saying, "I can't wait to tell everyone that you're alive!" And then I woke up. I can't really describe the let down. Like a boulder had been dropped on my chest. Like the world had turned from color to gray, again. I was so disappointed. Ruined my morning. I had won the lottery only to discover the whole thing was a sham. So, do I want the joy of seeing her again in my dreams if I know that it isn't reality? Should I sacrifice a few hours of elation knowing I'll eventually have to wake up and live the rest of my life without her? Nothing will ever be purely good any more.
Reading another book on grief (quotes a few days ago were from Nicholas Wolterstorff, Lament for a Son. Below are from Jennifer Silvera, Believe). A few quotes that explain me right now:
    "Darkness doesn't announce when it will knock on the door. It doesn't ask permission to enter."
    "I continued to feel removed from life. Time did not heal the discord in my soul. Life as I had known it had ended, and now I waited for it to actually be over… Life had nothing to offer me, and I had nothing to give back to life."
    "I feel like I am suspended between heaven and earth – not dead, but not quite alive."
I know these are hard statements not offering much by way of "oh he'll get through this," "He's doing fine," "I'm glad to hear that things are good with him."
I wish life was back to boring, normal, mundane. I haven't been bored since March 6^th. My mind hasn't shut off for 47 days. And I don't suppose it will for a long time. God is telling me each day that He's hear and He's walking with me and that He's in this with me. And most importantly He's telling me that Leigh is in Heaven and I'll have forever with her one day, but that there are still reasons I'm here on Earth and that I need to keep living to discover them. So I will do that. For as much as I'd love for it to be 2045, I would miss whatever God has for me, even if it's just the experience of seeing Him lived out in the lives of three beautiful children.
Speaking of children – Malia learned how to snap her fingers. This alone is fun to watch but when she snaps and adds some shoulder dips and head bobs, it becomes something you have to stop and simply enjoy. I love her so much.
Random thoughts tonight. Thanks for listening.
Prayer Requests:

• That God would give me a little indication as to why all of this is happening
• Prayers for a little girl, Kate McRae, who is courageously battling brain cancer. She and her family need your prayers more than I do.

"Father, thank You for some sleep these past few nights. And thank You for the many that continue to pray for us. Thank You that Leigh Ann is wrapped in Your love. I'm hurting and I still can't believe this is now my life. I want to turn it off. Please let me find some joy in tomorrow."