I lost my husband of nearly 55 years, a few months ago, on March 13, 2021.
Suddenly, I found myself alone. No one to prepare breakfast for, no one to play golf with on weekends and share a lunch of Crispy Bangus and Pinakbet at LZM, no one beside me to do our early morning walk around Greenhills, no one beside me on the long drive through Aguinaldo Highway on our way to our house in Canyon Woods, our weekend retreat.
It was as if the lights went out, time stopped and I found myself alone in the dark.
Fear is very real, fear of losing someone, fear of losing your job, fear of being infected with Covid, fear of the unknown.
In my husband Roby’s case, we knew he had Congestive Heart Failure, a chronic progressive condition that meant his heart wasn’t pumping blood efficiently throughout his body — a diagnosis his cardiologist gave him 9 years ago.
Nevertheless, we lived our lives as we did before — travelling (though now limited to short, nearby trips), playing golf, spending time with our kids and apos – knowing it was there but believing that with the right medicine and lifestyle adjustments, it was going to be manageable.
Over the course of 9 years, he was hospitalized for symptoms related to his condition 3-4 times but always recovered. I saw the signs of the disease slowly taking my husband’s life, but I brushed them aside, only entertaining the thought that he would recover and we could bring him home, which was what happened each of those four times.
It was too painful to entertain the thought of losing him.
But the dreaded day came.
I accepted it as God’s will as I gave in to the overwhelming grief that no words could describe.
That night, I felt like I was transported back to when I was eight, a time when I imagined monsters pouncing and clawing at me from beneath the house and chasing me.
We had a laundry area or “labahan” that was located under our old traditional house, my father’s remedy for helping me conquer my fear of the dark was to make a nightly ritual of making me walk from the kitchen door around the house and back around. It was not lighted and was very dark at night.
At this point, my imagination would convince me that the monsters were chasing me and I would run as fast as I could making the full circle back to our kitchen door.
But instead of helping me get over my fear, I became even more fearful of the dark.
A fear that stayed with me until I gave birth to our first child.
I was 23, a young newlywed and a new mother.
Since I had to wake up in the middle of the night to feed her, the darkness soon became unimportant.
Our daughter gave me a purpose, helping me to get over my fear — suddenly there were no more monsters — just my hungry baby and me.
In the days and weeks that followed Roby’s passing, I began to see signs along the way that God was doing something new. It was clear that a season in my life had ended — the ministry to my husband had passed — the years dedicating my life to him abruptly drawn to a close.
And God was telling me, He wasn’t done with me yet.
“You are forever in my life You see me through the seasons. And I look to you and I wait on You“… the song in my mind reminded me.
A New Thing
I had always enjoyed writing, I was editor-in-chief of my university’s school newspaper and found fulfillment writing, editing and managing the different aspects of running a monthly publication — a long lost love that’s come back to me once again.
I can still remember the smell of newsprint when I scribbled my articles. And when Nanay bought us a typewriter, I would use that to type — the clickety-clack of the keys and the zinging that the handle made when I pulled it to start the next line were memorable.
In the past few months, the words have been pouring out and finding their way onto the computer screen in front of me.
I find myself on the eve of a new season and my heart is again hopeful and full.
Because I know the One who started the good work in me years ago will complete it. “I always pray with joy because of your partnership with the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this that He who began a work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Jesus Christ.“
I no longer feel lost and in the dark. A new purpose is chasing away the monsters and the fear of the dark once again.
At 77 years old, I’ve started a new season — He is not done with me yet, He still has work for me to do, a calling to fulfill and a story to tell.
I start this new direction with my first article…which I like to call my first “episode”.
I hope it’s an encouragement to you today that God promises to be “the Lord your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you. (Isa 41:13)”
He is with us, He helps us and will help us walk into our different seasons.
