I sit in my rocker on my front porch of our house built by my honey. I watch the tall pines, to the east of my house, as the tops are circling in the wind. I’ve burrowed deep into Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’ ‘Five Stages of Grief.’ I think I actually began the grieving process the day I was told he had cancer. I knew this day would come. I tried to imagine how it would be without him. At night, as I lay beside him, I would attempt to commit the nights to memory – knowing that, one day, he wouldn’t be there.
I remember those nights, I remember those “front porch days” – days when I would sit and rock, knowing that one day he wouldn’t be inside, in his recliner. I now look back on those nights and days – remembering and trying to feel him, there beside me. It was an impossible feat, then and it’s impossible, now.
I look at the legacy he left behind. He was a very talented craftsman. I live in a home that he designed and built. Our children and grandchildren and friends have beautiful “Handcrafted by Bob Gorrell” pieces. We would rather have him!
My pastor recently spoke on “Being Ordinary”. At the time, I didn’t connect what he was saying to me.
Recently, a sweet cousin who lost her husband, made me realize that I’m not so unusual. I mentioned that I had prayed, fervently, that God would allow this to be a bad dream. Let me awaken one morning and have Bob there. I would imagine saying to him, “you won’t believe what I dreamed.” Her response was, “I also did that.”
I related to our youngest daughter, my conversation with my cousin, and her response was “Mom, that’s what Brother Beard preached about. He was speaking to you. You are normal.”
God works in mysterious ways, and things happen for a reason – even though we may never understand why. God has proven to me, in so many ways, how blessed I am to be in this small town with so many friends and family. I’ve also learned that I am ordinary …..and that’s such a relief!
