20 Halloweens Later

Every morning for the past week, my mom has delivered coffee to my bed, which is actually my dad's side of their bed. While I feel a bit overly cared for, the less I move around, the less I hurt.

So on this 20th anniversary of the day I was told my husband was officially dying and I should sign up for hospice - aka Halloween - I'm watching NCIS reruns and recovering from my 8th orthopedic surgery.

Hmmm...

I've played more solitaire this week than I like. In fact, I haven't opened my Bible even though it's here, in my computer bag, next to the bed. It took me a few days to remember where it was and by then drugs hampered my normal state of mind.

However, I eventually gave up narcotics after suffering through a night of with flailing limbs due to drug-induced muscle spasms. Since hydrocodone makes me itch and slows my breathing, I'd asked for something new. As a result, I now know that demerol gives me night terrors. I breathe fine and the pain was controlled. But all through the night, the drugs caused my limbs to jump around like helpless ragdolls.

It was not fun.

So no more drugs.

So now as Trick-or-Treaters run rampant, I sit in a dark house, withdrawn from the societal norm. And it isn't the first time.

Halloween baffled me for a while. Since Jason, my first husband, died three days after the holiday, the end of the month sent me into a tunnel of darkness that led back to light by mid-November. Underground I felt removed. Withdrawn. Like I walked around in a glass box and lived in the same world but separated.

Like now, except the glass box is the four walls of my parents bedroom.

On the one hand Facebook keeps me connected. On the other hand, it reminds me of how much living I miss.

Even now I've switched to Dancing with the Stars and my body wants to move. To dance. To jive along with the music.

And I can't.

So let me get on to what I did do today.

Since the 20th anniversary of the day Jason died is fast approaching, I decided to do something to honor him. Rick Parker, a graphic design friend of his, put this together, using Jason's artwork. My children and their cousins offered opinions, so we went with the larger text option.

Jason loved fish and drew and painted them often. This is one few have seen but I've always liked.

Check out all the options at:

www.teespring.com/raising-funds-for-mito

I ordered a mito fundraising t-shirt last summer through teespring.com. And it turned out to be my favorite t-shirt ever. The material was incredibly soft and the fit perfect.

There are many style options available. Short sleeves. Long sleeves. V-neck. Crew neck. So just check out the link, and know that 100% of the proceeds will go to the Foundation for Mitochondrial Medicine.

The sale period ends in ten days. So if interested, get your order in.

I just paused to talk to Don and he told me about a conversation he had with someone today. The kind where the person simply says, "I've given up on God."

Hearing the confession third person startled me.

Giving up on God? Really? Now?

Ironically, it gave me what I needed to draw my thoughts to a close.

I've played more solitaire than I like this week. And I've felt more sad than normal. But in three days, we will honor twenty years since my first husband died. A lot of stuff has happened since then, and not once have I wanted to give up on God.

So 20 Halloweens later, I'll celebrate that simple victory and even pull out my Bible.

"See, I lay in Zion a stone that causes men to stumble and a rock that makes them fall, and the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame" (Romans 9: 33 NIV).