Severe Mercy

 When Bill died so unexpectedly and suddenly, a friend told me that God had granted me a "severe mercy."  I had heard the term before and knew what he meant.  I did not have to stand by watching Bill suffer as he died little by little from cancer or dementia.  The cardiac arrest was so abrupt, he didn't suffer any agonizing pain.  He slept until that moment.  When we decided we had to take him off the ventilator and let him go, there was wonderful hospice care available.

There is a level on which I know I should be grateful.  His passing in this way was God's gift to both of us.  I recognized immediately that God had made it as easy on me as possible.  I was near family and friends who were supportive.  I was done with the school year except for one last day, and I had "happened" to leave an open book quiz on my desk.  When he was transferred to a hospice never having regained consciousness, our apartment was only a block away, easing the stress of those final three days as he quietly slipped away.

However, I have felt Bill's loss...his absence from my life...so keenly, that I have struggled to maintain the gratitude.  It is one thing to recognize God's hand in the process, and another to come to grips with the situation as part of God's long range plan for His glory and our good.

It has been 15 months and 5 days since he breathed his last breath.  Fifteen and a half months since we had our last conversation.  I don't remember much of the last day he was conscious.  I think the trauma of the cardiac arrest wiped out some of my memory of the prior day, but I do remember that last day talking with him about the upcoming running events for which he had registered.  He had just run 6 miles and was evaluating how he would do the next week at the National Senior Games.  We had no idea where he would actually be a week later, and that he would be running his final race.

I am doing my best to focus on being grateful for the "severe mercy."  I know God understands my sorrow, but that He sees the big picture which is hidden from me.