Wish You Were Here

Reflections on a Wedding Weekend without My Partner

The wedding was exactly what she wanted – little white chapel, her closest friends, my friends and family, good food, dancing, laughter, and absolutely no drama. I don’t know how you put ten 20-something women in the same house for the whole weekend and get no drama, but they did it. These women are amazing! And one of them brought her super-hero mother and sister to make sure the entire bridal party was fed and cared for. Rachel’s mom Amy (and sister Christine) made my life incredibly easy all weekend.

My people were, of course, equally amazing. Abby picked a long-time (I initially wrote “old” but decided she wouldn’t like that) friend from First Baptist of Asheville to officiate. Rev. Leah Brown has loved Abby since the day she was born. We raised our two girls and their two boys together in the family that was the New Testament Sunday School class of FBC Asheville. Those friends are some of the best, most faithful friends Bruce and I have ever had. And although we left in 2006, I could still call any one of them with a need and know they would pick up and make it happen.

And the A-team was there of course. Those amazing friends who have loved me forever and most recently loved me through watching my partner of more than 30 years get sick and die. Friends like that are … indescribable really. Irreplaceable. I can’t imagine life without them. The Echols clan, Mars Hill EPC family, the Virginia Paynes – they all came.

A beautiful wedding filled with beautiful people and tons of love.

And then there is today. (In a rare moment of wisdom I had already taken today off anticipating I might be tired.) This day always happens – the day after the big event. Family and friends come in from near and far. We stay up way too late, laugh and cry and tell too many stories, cook and clean and prepare and … post-pare? Once the beautiful event is over, everyone heads back to their corners of the world and I’m here in mine. Alone. I wasn’t always alone. Back in the day there would have been Mom and Dad and my pesky little brother. Years later there was a husband and little children who always needed something – enough to keep me distracted. Not anymore. At home today it is just me, 2 cats, and a DVR full of shows I haven’t had time (or energy) to watch.

Don’t get me wrong – there are a dozen friends I could call up and say “dinner?” and any of them will say “Sure – where and when?” But today, what I want – what I need – is some time to rest, gather my senses and capture my thoughts.

I went to bed at 8 pm last night and did not leave my bed until 8 am. (Did I mention how tired I was?) When I did finally get up, I made a cup of coffee and sat in the quiet of my screened-in porch. The breeze was blowing, birds were singing, the wind chimes sang along. It is cool today for the last week of April in Georgia. Cool enough that I eventually went back inside, snuggled under the Ted Lasso blanket in my recliner, turned on the heating pad and promptly fell back asleep.

After a visit from a dear neighbor (dropping off a baby gift for Gracie) and some rustled up lunch, I was ready to venture out into the sunshine. So here I sit in Gordon County at the Salacoa Creek Park – enjoying the view and the sunshine and the breeze and the quiet.

Processing thoughts and emotions always seems to be easier for me sitting somewhere with a beautiful view in nature. This park certainly fits that bill. I’m seated on a hillside next to an idyllic little lake surrounded by forested mountains. I open my laptop, take a deep breath and begin to try to gather my senses and my thoughts.

This weekend was in so very many ways exactly what we’d expected it to be – filled with joy and love and laughter. In other ways it was nothing like we’d expected. Never in all the years I dreamed of my daughters’ weddings did I imagine only one of them would be walked down the aisle by their Dad. But there we were – still celebrating – still loving – still laughing even though He wasn’t with us.

So much about my life has changed in the last 22 months. Much of it has been written in this space. Much more has not. While my life looks different from the outside, that is nothing compared to the work Holy Spirit and I (and my excellent therapist) have been doing together on the inside. My view of myself, my way of practicing my faith, my understanding of love, the way I mother (and soon will grandmother), the friend I am, the chaplain I am – none of these areas has gone unexamined. None of them is the same as it was 22 months ago. I have to say I am incredibly thankful for that truth. Not that my old life was bad or wrong or any of those things. It’s just that this season has opened me up in ways I didn’t know I had been closed. My heart has broken in places I’d never let myself survey before. I’ve been awestruck at ways God has shown up for me – ways I could not have predicted or even believed if I hadn’t lived them. I can’t count the number of times I’ve been crying or praying or ranting about something and my Spotify playlist tosses me a song with just the right lyric to stop me in my tracks. Some days messages come from far away friends who seem to know just which scripture will help in that moment – even though they have no way of knowing what “that moment” entails. I’ve been turned around by the laughter of little children and by the tears of grieving patients. Once God even spoke through a random painting at the High Museum of Art.

My life is richer, deeper, more thoughtful than it has ever been. I know that is a strange thing to say a year and half after the death of my husband and in the middle of the chaos that is life on this planet right now. It is, none-the-less, true. And I hope that brings a little light into whatever dark places you m ight be experiencing right now. Hear me say God loves you. God answers every prayer – just not always the way we wish. I do believe, however, that story God is writing for me is better than anything I could have dreamed up for myself. I am more grateful than words can express. I’m looking forward to what God has in store for me next. Who knows what will happen?

Nakupenda Sana my Rafiki. Bwana Asifiwe.

Selah,

Cathy

P.S. I wish you were here.