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16. Empty Calories

Written Wednesday, January 8, 2020 / Day 149 / Morning

When you eat something satisfying you know it. You know it because when you are done you are no longer hungry. But there are other items - those items that seem so appealing, so potentially satisfying but after you eat them - they just leave you wanting more.

It is food that seems like food - but food that does not satisfy. Food that just doesn’t do it’s job.

In this world of grief - one of the many of the seemingly endless things to contend with is the ongoing feeling of emptiness.

This is not the emptiness I knew of in my pre-grief life.

In that world there was emptiness at times - but that emptiness was not sustained - it lasted only for a period of time.

In those days, you might have been missing something for a while - but in the end, those moments of emptiness could be resolved in some way.

We faced that when we moved from our home of Buffalo, New York in 1987.

Our lives changed dramatically.

Suddenly all those relationships that were local - became remote.

All those interactions that were relatively close - were now excruciatingly distant. So distant that they could not be easily restored even for a short time.

In that situation they were displaced. Removed - still somewhat accessible but in a different way. They could be re-established with a good amount of effort and planning - but they were generally unavailable on a daily basis.

Such was the situation with anything that is lost. In most cases there is a way to reconnect. Those losses are generally not permanent.

In the world of grief however - the new reality is painfully real.

This emptiness takes you to an entirely new level.

A new level of loss that is just difficult to grasp.

I know - because I regularly cannot hold on to that reality all that well.

It seems to happen because this reality is just not desirable. It is not wanted. But unfortunately - it is the reality that must be faced.

The reality of emptiness.

Those outside - those whose lives have not been operationally rendered inoperable by the loss - struggle to relate. As I have mentioned in previous essays - I was in that exact position.

I still had a functioning life (with all of its issues and contentions) so in trying to relate to someone without that reality - it was just awkward and uncomfortable.

Out of respect, empathy and caring I can remember struggling with what to do. Generally I reverted to the normal solution - I did nothing. Or very little. I did not want to disturb the person - upset them or be a problem.

Little did I know that there was nothing I could do to disturb them, or make them sad or uncomfortable - they were already living with those feeling - every day.

Every minute.

I now symbolically kick myself for my past inactions. I know I could not have known any better.

But perhaps you - the reader of this essay might be able to do what I did not have the capability to do.

To contribute in some small way to disrupting the emptiness of the life those of us in the state of grief must face.

We know there are no answers.

The cold hard unemotional view is that you will get used to this. You will emerge with a new life. You will “move on”.

I feel that perception all around me.

And I can’t stand it. Can’t stand it at all.

It might be true - it might just be what will happen. As humans we do adapt to anything. So I know in a physical sense that is true.

But in the emotional world - aided by the non-godly, desperation-laced state of grief that is our new reality - the connections, the values, the history and all that makes up the closest relationship you could have ever been blessed to experience - those elements are no longer there.

They are gone.

And then grief comes along to rub it in - it asks, “So where are you?”.

I do not know exactly - but the continual emptiness is just there.

The obligations of the day come along and are a distraction from the painful truth. In those moments come surprising episodes where you get a flash to the pre-grief world. You feel settled. You feel whole. You feel loved.

And then you don’t.

Welcome back.

Welcome back to emptiness. It is somewhat of an oxymoron - as the GPS would say, “You have arrived at your destination.”.

But when you look out to see where you have arrived at - there is just nothing there.

Just shadows of the past. Yes there are the memories. But they can be taunting in their allure. They take you back - but those trips are only temporary.

They are satisfying for the moment you are having them.

But they do not really satisfy. They do not help in a real sense.

This morning I restated my theme of this journey.

I want to be strengthened by the memories. I do not want to go to a place of sadness.

The memories I have remind me of the incredible love God gave us to share. We both knew that is what we had. It was not some superficial Barbie & Ken relationship.

It was a relationship that was welded together. By traumatic event. By life’s trials. By all that takes place in this broken world.

It was a representation of God’s love. He gave it to us. And as I recollect on that love - I tell the room - “Your love is not sad! It is not miserable. It is good. Your love has saved us. Your love saved my sweetie and me. Your love gave us life. I want that love to do that for me now - even though she is not with me at the moment.”.

I know this can happen.

It has not happened yet.

But it will.

God’s love is the answer to my grief.

I know the One who has conquered death. He has the victory. It is the victory that I am claiming for me in this life.

His love will give us life in His Kingdom.

He is greater than this emptiness that we must contend with. He has filled it. Filled it with His love. His love will do that for me - and for you.

That is what He will do.

Fill the emptiness that tries to dominate me - with the love that I have tasted - the love that I know. The love that I have lived and had wrapped around me and my sweetie for 47 years.

The love that conquers the emptiness.

The love that satisfies.

16. Empty Calories

Written Wednesday, January 8, 2020 / Day 149 / Morning

When you eat something satisfying you know it. You know it because when you are done you are no longer hungry. But there are other items - those items that seem so appealing, so potentially satisfying but after you eat them - they just leave you wanting more.

It is food that seems like food - but food that does not satisfy. Food that just doesn’t do it’s job.

In this world of grief - one of the many of the seemingly endless things to contend with is the ongoing feeling of emptiness.

This is not the emptiness I knew of in my pre-grief life.

In that world there was emptiness at times - but that emptiness was not sustained - it lasted only for a period of time.

In those days, you might have been missing something for a while - but in the end, those moments of emptiness could be resolved in some way.

We faced that when we moved from our home of Buffalo, New York in 1987.

Our lives changed dramatically.

Suddenly all those relationships that were local - became remote.

All those interactions that were relatively close - were now excruciatingly distant. So distant that they could not be easily restored even for a short time.

In that situation they were displaced. Removed - still somewhat accessible but in a different way. They could be re-established with a good amount of effort and planning - but they were generally unavailable on a daily basis.

Such was the situation with anything that is lost. In most cases there is a way to reconnect. Those losses are generally not permanent.

In the world of grief however - the new reality is painfully real.

This emptiness takes you to an entirely new level.

A new level of loss that is just difficult to grasp.

I know - because I regularly cannot hold on to that reality all that well.

It seems to happen because this reality is just not desirable. It is not wanted. But unfortunately - it is the reality that must be faced.

The reality of emptiness.

Those outside - those whose lives have not been operationally rendered inoperable by the loss - struggle to relate. As I have mentioned in previous essays - I was in that exact position.

I still had a functioning life (with all of its issues and contentions) so in trying to relate to someone without that reality - it was just awkward and uncomfortable.

Out of respect, empathy and caring I can remember struggling with what to do. Generally I reverted to the normal solution - I did nothing. Or very little. I did not want to disturb the person - upset them or be a problem.

Little did I know that there was nothing I could do to disturb them, or make them sad or uncomfortable - they were already living with those feeling - every day.

Every minute.

I now symbolically kick myself for my past inactions. I know I could not have known any better.

But perhaps you - the reader of this essay might be able to do what I did not have the capability to do.

To contribute in some small way to disrupting the emptiness of the life those of us in the state of grief must face.

We know there are no answers.

The cold hard unemotional view is that you will get used to this. You will emerge with a new life. You will “move on”.

I feel that perception all around me.

And I can’t stand it. Can’t stand it at all.

It might be true - it might just be what will happen. As humans we do adapt to anything. So I know in a physical sense that is true.

But in the emotional world - aided by the non-godly, desperation-laced state of grief that is our new reality - the connections, the values, the history and all that makes up the closest relationship you could have ever been blessed to experience - those elements are no longer there.

They are gone.

And then grief comes along to rub it in - it asks, “So where are you?”.

I do not know exactly - but the continual emptiness is just there.

The obligations of the day come along and are a distraction from the painful truth. In those moments come surprising episodes where you get a flash to the pre-grief world. You feel settled. You feel whole. You feel loved.

And then you don’t.

Welcome back.

Welcome back to emptiness. It is somewhat of an oxymoron - as the GPS would say, “You have arrived at your destination.”.

But when you look out to see where you have arrived at - there is just nothing there.

Just shadows of the past. Yes there are the memories. But they can be taunting in their allure. They take you back - but those trips are only temporary.

They are satisfying for the moment you are having them.

But they do not really satisfy. They do not help in a real sense.

This morning I restated my theme of this journey.

I want to be strengthened by the memories. I do not want to go to a place of sadness.

The memories I have remind me of the incredible love God gave us to share. We both knew that is what we had. It was not some superficial Barbie & Ken relationship.

It was a relationship that was welded together. By traumatic event. By life’s trials. By all that takes place in this broken world.

I know this can happen.

It has not happened yet.

But it will.

God’s love is the answer to my grief.

I know the One who has conquered death. He has the victory. It is the victory that I am claiming for me in this life.

His love will give us life in His Kingdom.

He is greater than this emptiness that we must contend with. He has filled it. Filled it with His love. His love will do that for me - and for you.

That is what He will do.

Fill the emptiness that tries to dominate me - with the love that I have tasted - the love that I know. The love that I have lived and had wrapped around me and my sweetie for 47 years.

The love that conquers the emptiness.

The love that satisfies.

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