Widows & Widowers Support Group
This community is dedicated to those who have lost a husband, wife, or partner. Anything is open for discussion here, with the hope that we can focus on grief, bereavement, life after loss, and continuing on after a great loss.
It's late and my mind is wondering: Is my father okay. I don't pick up the phone to find out, but it occurs to me that if he isn't no one will know. No one will know if I'm dead or alive either, so we have something in common.
Today at work a coworker told me I should adopt a child. You have no husband, no children, he said. Who will take care of you when you're old? I told him I was praying for an early death. He looked at me to see if I was serious.
I am.
Been praying for a long time now, but when I say an early death, I'm asking for a pain free, nice way to go. And early as in about seventy-something. The long life my family enjoys has never been something I wanted, but when my husband was around, well there was a reason.
But look at my life now. What possible reason would I have to want to be around on this planet at eighty-something--body falling apart, running from bad weather and bad terroist, all so I can finally give up this body anyhow. But on the other hand, safe and protected with God sounds like a deal.
I'm not the first in my family to think this way. Mom started praying for an early release when she was a teen. I was horrified when I found out. How can you want to die? I asked.
She said to me, I don't ever want to be a burden. I want to go before that. And she did, on the exact day she became a burden.
But long before she died, I saw her wisdom. This happened when I was 34 and confined to a hospital with a once vibrant woman. The poor woman was comatose. She lay in bed, never moving, her frail body just breathing. Then one day her niece came to visit. Turns out she didn't have kids and her parents had passed long ago. So she was alone. Anyhow the niece started talking about her aunt and how she'd once been a dancer and had traveled the world. And I looked at this woman, a shadow of herself and felt such pain.
That's when I made the prayer.
So God willing, and I pray he is willing. I will live a healthy life and one day, without suffering, I will simply close my eyes and wake up with Jesus.
Today at work a coworker told me I should adopt a child. You have no husband, no children, he said. Who will take care of you when you're old? I told him I was praying for an early death. He looked at me to see if I was serious.
I am.
Been praying for a long time now, but when I say an early death, I'm asking for a pain free, nice way to go. And early as in about seventy-something. The long life my family enjoys has never been something I wanted, but when my husband was around, well there was a reason.
But look at my life now. What possible reason would I have to want to be around on this planet at eighty-something--body falling apart, running from bad weather and bad terroist, all so I can finally give up this body anyhow. But on the other hand, safe and protected with God sounds like a deal.
I'm not the first in my family to think this way. Mom started praying for an early release when she was a teen. I was horrified when I found out. How can you want to die? I asked.
She said to me, I don't ever want to be a burden. I want to go before that. And she did, on the exact day she became a burden.
But long before she died, I saw her wisdom. This happened when I was 34 and confined to a hospital with a once vibrant woman. The poor woman was comatose. She lay in bed, never moving, her frail body just breathing. Then one day her niece came to visit. Turns out she didn't have kids and her parents had passed long ago. So she was alone. Anyhow the niece started talking about her aunt and how she'd once been a dancer and had traveled the world. And I looked at this woman, a shadow of herself and felt such pain.
That's when I made the prayer.
So God willing, and I pray he is willing. I will live a healthy life and one day, without suffering, I will simply close my eyes and wake up with Jesus.
I had a very good friend who died last year. He was 96! He took care of himself, his house and property. He drove several times a week, in Maine! He heated his place with a wood stove and was able to do that, wrestle the wood in the house and all that. He dearly loved debating theology and politics. At 96!
Why are you so ready to give up on life? You don't know what the future holds, if you did you wouldn't be here, would you? you don't know what's around the next corner, who's going to knock on your door, or when the end will be. So, get up off that lazy, scaredy cat butt and get busy living. Your missing loved ones would expect nothing less.
Ken