Clear as glass

Thankfully, I am off on Mondays.  Today was a rough day.  It has been hard every year for the past 6 years.  Mercifully, the first year - 7 years ago - I didn't know what was yet to come.  I do now and therein lies the difficulty.

Seven years ago today, my Sweet Hubby woke up feeling "off."  Dizzy, weak, and just otherwise not feeling good.  At my urging, he stayed home - which was totally out of character.

For those of you who know "our story," you already know where this day in 2008 took us.  For those who may not know, here's a bit of background in a nutshell:

July 7, 2008:  My Sweet Hubby woke up feeling ill, stayed home from work and just rested.

July 8, 2008:  Not feeling any better...pale, dizzy, stayed home and I made an appointment for that afternoon with his doctor.  Lab work indicated he was extremely anemic and would need a pint or two of blood.  The doctor suspected a bleeding ulcer and sent us across the street to the hospital for admission via the emergency department.  After a couple of hours in the ED waiting for a bed, my Sweet Hubby was admitted.

July 9, 2008: My Sweet Hubby went for an endoscopy (thin, flexible fiber optic tube equipped with camera inserted down the throat into the stomach and small intestine).  No ulcer was found, however, bleeding gastric varices (varicose veins in the stomach) were found (not normal) and a CT was ordered for that evening.  Two units of blood were also transfused.

July 10, 2008:  After waiting all day for test results, the hospitalist arrived late in the day to give us the results of the CT scan:  Stage 4 Pancreatic Cancer that had metastasized to the liver.

As an RN, I knew at that moment what we were up against.  Sometimes ignorance really IS bliss.

So, today is a reminder of the "beginning of the end."  I lost my Sweet Hubby one day shy of 4 months later on November 9, 2008.

I was reading the blog of a fellow widow earlier today.  She talked about these episodes of grief that blindside us.  I call them "grief landmines."  If you have lost someone (and really, who hasn't?) you know what I'm talking about.  Those "anniversaries" or memories that hit you right between the eyes...maybe even in the middle of a really good day and leave you gasping for breath and feeling horrifically wounded all over again.  Days like today.

My mantra these past 6 1/2 years has always been, "Tomorrow will be better."  Only right now, that line is, "Next week will be better."  This week will have me on my knees.  Literally.  But truly - that's exactly where I need to be...praying, praising, worshipping, communing, listening.  He knows. Nothing else about this period of days may make sense, but THAT truth is clear as glass.  And I find comfort in that.

Today is Music Monday.  I know I've shared this one before, but I want to hear it over and over again.  Especially today.  Jesus, Jesus, Jesus...