Living with a Cracked Heart

Today we laid my beloved husband’s body to rest. He went home to Jesus on June 26, 2013 at 4:00 a.m. I’m no longer his caregiver.

There is a huge crack in my heart where the sorrow within is seeping out, too much to be contained. I walk through the rooms of this empty house not knowing what to do. My mind is confused, overwhelmed, and if I were a computer, my hard drive would need replaced. But I’m not. And a cracked heart cannot be replaced, although I know in time it will heal.

To be loved as I was is something I wish for everyone. Tender hands held me when I was sad or frightened, wiped my tears with gentleness, and cradled me close for comfort. We laughed, we dreamed, we cried. But most of all we loved.

Even though I know he has not died, but lives in heaven and walks streets of gold, I miss his earthly presence with every fiber of my being. I long to feel his arms close around me and tell me it will be all right. I ache for him to kiss me one more time. To cradle me in his arms tonight as I cry myself to sleep.

Now I understand the meaning of the words: “Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

If it were not for my deep faith, I don’t think I could take the steps into this new life. Jesus will walk with me. He will carry me when I cannot walk. I can do this and all things through Christ for He is my strength.

Some people have said how strong I’ve remained through the past few weeks. I’m truly not strong, but I have strong arms holding me and guiding me. I am blessed and I am humbled.

 


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