Skip to main content

The day my future died...(a post about moving on)....

10 months ago this week my husband and I were discussing hospital discharge plans with his doctor. We were aware that the tests confirmed the cancer was back. But we also were witnessing the miracle of the paralysis caused by chemo decreasing. We thought at minimum there were weeks maybe even months left. And we hoped that God would intervene and perform the miracle of healing on earth. Our hopes were destroyed when just a few days later on February 14th my husband passed away. Although I knew the cancer had spread, his death took me by complete surprise. And in a blink of an eye I went from wife to widow. My entire life instantly changed. And who I was changed as well.
From the time I stood across from my husband on the day we got married, my hopes and dreams always contained him. When I thought of my future, he was in it.
And yet on February 14th at 7:24 in the morning that future died along with my husband.


Words can’t describe how much I miss him. And I don’t just miss him on birthdays, holidays and anniversaries. I miss him in the morning when he isn’t sitting across from me eating breakfast. I miss him when I am working and not receiving text messages from him asking how my day is going. I miss  him in the evening when the front door doesn’t open with him walking in it after work. I miss him at bedtime when I don’t hear him reading a story, singing a song and praying with the kids. I miss him.

But when a spouse dies there is so much that goes beyond just grieving their loss.
There is the pain of moving forward.
On the outside most would probably think I am doing a great job moving forward. If you follow me on social media you see the pictures I post of my children and I living after loss. I don't spend my days curled up in bed crying uncontrollably. At first glance, strangers would never even assume that I am a widow. I am young. I have young children. I don't fit the image one has when they think of widow.  And yet, that is the title I now hold. And it is a painful title to hold.
 It is painful facing the future without the person I thought I was going to grow old with.
  Mel, as a living person, is not a part of my future.
And that is a hard fact to wrap my mind around. One that causes so much pain and many tears to fall. I had dreams before I was married. I had dreams while I was married. Yet when a spouse dies, it is hard to dream again. It is hard to think of the future when the person you wanted to spend the future with is no longer living. And yet it is something that is so important to do. A few weeks before Mel passed away he began to tell me of all of the things he wanted me to do if he died. It was a conversation I didn't want to have because I couldn't fathom a life without him.
And yet, I do have a life without him.
Moving on (or moving forward however you want to call it) doesn't mean forgetting. It doesn't mean no longer missing the deceased. It doesn't mean tears no longer fall. It doesn't mean holidays, birthdays, anniversaries and random Monday's no longer hurt. But I know my husband would want nothing more than for us...for me to be happy. I know he would want me to dream again. He would want me to live. He would want me to build a life that contained joy and amazing memories. He would want me to understand that it is okay to create a life without him. 
He would want me to move on.
It is a hard thing to process. And so it is something that I pray about often. God knew when I stood across from my husband reciting our marriage vows on August 8, 2009 that we would only have 7 years of marriage. But God also knew that while my husband's earthly journey would end on February 14, 2017, the journey I have on earth continues.
And I know that God would like me to know that my future didn't die when my husband took his last breath.  
You can follow me on IG: @kimjoylira
If you want more information about the church I attend here is the website: First United Pentecostal Church



Popular posts from this blog

Why the church doesn't need any more coffee bars

More and more on my social media feeds I have been seeing a lot of churches boast of the cool, trendy new initiatives that they have begun. I have seen pictures of coffee bars that resemble Starbucks. I have seen lighting that resembles one seen on Broadway. I have read catchy sermon titles and have seen how people have brought the movies into their sermons. In so many of these posts, I see all that churches are doing to attract new members, but I don't hear them talking about the power of Jesus. 

My husband passed away February 14th, 2017 after a two year battle with cancer.

To say he battled cancer is an understatement. He was hospitalized two weeks out of every month during the first year of treatment. He was hospitalized a total of 18 times. He was rushed to the emergency room 8 times. He spent close to 500 days separated from his two children over the course of two years. And eventually the chemo, designed to get rid of the cancer, caused him to be paralyzed. And for the last …

To the Christian who had sex before marriage

This past week my social media was inundated with engagement and wedding posts. It seemed as though everyone was either getting married or engaged during the month of November. And as I scrolled through the many pictures I began to think of those who are filled with guilt or shame over their past and who every time they see an engagement announcement or wedding picture think within themselves "that will never be me."

You have convinced yourself that because you had sex outside of marriage, or because you were in an unequally yoked relationship or because you are a single parent, or because before you were a Christian you had an abortion, or because even though you didn't have sex you didn't maintain sexual purity, (the list can go on) that you don't deserve or never will get that "happily ever after."

Your sin may have been exposed to all due to a pregnancy or maybe yours is hidden in shame and secrecy and you are afraid to even admit what you have don…

Mommy, why didn't God heal daddy?

Monday night my six year old daughter came running to my bedroom with tears streaming down her eyes. She was crying so hard I could barely decipher the words coming out of her mouth. "Mommy, I miss daddy.... Life isn't the same without him.... Why did he have to die???? Why didn't God heal daddy????I wish God would let him come back."

Why can't the difficult questions my children ask be "Mommy, where do babies come from?" Why, at seven and six do they have to ask "Mommy, why didn't God heal daddy?"  Most six year olds are playing with toys, learning to read and watching their favorite television shows. For the most part, so is my daughter but then there are nights like Monday where the tears stream down her face for an hour. Or there are days where I find her in her bedroom, holding a picture of her dad to her chest silently crying and when she sees me asks, "Mommy, why didn't God heal daddy?" 

My children ask me question…