There... I've said it. It's taken me a year to say it publicly and it still doesn't feel right but it is what it is. I never thought that I would have this label at 43. We were supposed to grow old together for many more years.
This year has not been easy. I didn't go back to work till mid March... honestly I didn't want to go back then. I stayed busy this past summer with a new job teaching College Algebra for Eastern College at the Idabel campus, which I am now in my 3rd semester with them. I even picked up a class for Southeastern for the fall and spring also, teaching math to elementary majors. I'm finishing up graduate school to become an educational administrator and will graduate in May. I went on a couple of trips to get away, renew myself and begin to learn to live again. But honestly the first six months were a blur. These last six months I've been able to bring life back into focus but sometimes I still feel numb.
I have so many wonderful friends that have helped me over the past year, calling, texting or inviting to come visit. I know many were praying for me yesterday, that I would have peace. And I did, until my dear neighbor, Bendette, who had known Stevan for many years before we married, sent me a message and a picture of Stevan smiling. And yes, I lost it right in the middle of Starbucks. The one thing I felt like I needed yesterday was to be held/hugged. I got that last night from Bendette's husband. He promised me a year ago when I needed one, he would be there. And he was... so thank you Don.
Before Stevan passed, I learned that I was having panic attacks. Was put on some medicine to help control that but at the beginning of this school year I realized that I was not just having panic attacks but also having problems with hormones, thyroid (both of which I've had problems with over several years), and depression, and diagnosed with minor PTSD, which was all making my panic attacks worse. I am trying to take it day by day and lean on God for strength, but sometimes simple reasoning does not equate when a panic attack occurs, but I'm learning.
Recently I had a student ask me if I lived alone. I told her yes. Then she started to ask me something else and then told me never mind. So I walked over to her and asked her what? She said that she didn't know if she should ask me. I told her to go ahead. So she asked me if I missed him? I told her, "Of course I miss him! And the nights are the worst." Going home to an empty house, no one to talk to, going to bed alone.... that's the hardest. Stevan and I used to talk about our day when we went to bed. He would hold me and I knew I was safe.
In Genesis 2:24 the Bible says "Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife; and they shall be one flesh." When one looses their spouse, this explains why we feel like we are incomplete and have lost our other half, because we have. The only other person who can feel this way would be a mother. I've read many things over the past year and the one thing that keeps resonating with me is, when we loose someone, we will never be the same. We heal, we move on, learn to live without them, and we become whole again but we will never be the same. And we shouldn't want to be the same because we are not.
It has now been a year since Stevan's passing. Over the past five years I have held onto Philippians 4: 13, "I can do all things through Christ which strengthen me", to get me through all of Stevan's treatments, hospitalizations, chemo injections, infusions, radiation and late nights with no sleep. And this year I have felt like I was holding my breath to see I could make it a year without Stevan. And I did. Its been rough; so-called-friends tried to take advantage of me, when I had problems with animals, tires on trailers, buying a new car all by myself, electric fence, gate and truck problems. There are still nights that I cry myself to sleep when I begin to think about how things would be different if Stevan was here. But he's not and I've made it with God's help and many friends.
I still continue to praise God for the time I had with Stevan though. I've been asked, "Would you change anything?" No! I'm privileged that I had the time I did to share with Stevan and be the person he loved till the day he died. Those who know us know that he was not baptized when we married and even though he was a good man, he had not given his heart to Christ. But when he was diagnosed I saw a change begin to happen within. He first became angry, then fearful and humbled. Six months later he asked our pastor, Mike Mings, to come talk to him about what he had to do to become right with God. Many prayers that day were answered. The next day Stevan asked God into his heart and about a month later was baptized. One of the happiest days of my life with him, the first being the day I married him.
I had said from the day that he was diagnosed with Myeloma that there was a reason for God putting us through this, and to this day I believe it was to win his heart. The longer he went through treatment, the stronger he become in trusting Christ and becoming the man that I had longed to be married to. Even in his weakest state, the last few months of his life, Stevan was an inspiration to other. Not just who we saw out in the street but also in our church. He went from a man who only went because I went to church, to a man who was waking up on Sunday telling me to get ready, that he needed to goto church. I know that he drew his strength from listening to Chad Dansby and the class in Sunday school and the teachings from the pulpit by Brother Mike Mings. He loved both of these men and their love for Christ.
Today I being the next year of my life. I'm not sure what it may bring, but I know that God has me and I pray "Teach me thy way, O Lord: I will walk in thy truth: unite my heart to fear they name. I will praise thee, O Lord my God, with all my heart: and I will glorify thy name for evermore." Psalm 86:11-12. I know Stevan is at peace, no pain, no sorrow. It is us here on earth that suffer but I know one day I will see him again with my Savior. Until then I fight the good fight and walk the straight and narrow. And praise God for what he has given and taken away. For one day I will have more than I could ever want. It just takes patience and perseverance.