Nine Years and Counting
This is the first year, in at least the last five, that my brain and not my body reminded me of the significance of today's date. That's progress, right? I mean, I'll probably still take a Xanax today, but this time as more of a preventative measure than a reactionary necessity. I'm calling it a win.
The "Anniversary Effect" is defined as a unique set of unsettling feelings, thoughts or memories that occur on the anniversary of a significant event or experience. It's a trauma response, and one which I'm all too familiar with.
We're at 9 years today. The fact that the anniversary of Bob's accident falls on Groundhog Day is... well... typical of how the Byes roll, I suppose. That first year, while difficult, was certainly the easiest of the last nine. It was full of hope and gratitude, and frankly, complete naivety. Our faith was strengthened, however, and we were content, even through the many challenges.
The last several years have felt like we've taken up permanent residence in the pit. Living square in the valley, and rarely catching even a glimpse of the mountain top has tested us in ways I could honestly do without. To be tried, measured, and consistently found lacking at every turn brings despair and a weariness that is simply unreal. I have found myself disillusioned with my faith, SO angry at God, and felt victimized by some otherworldly prank that keeps me in constant anxiety about when the other shoe is going to drop. That, and I've been completely out of shoes forever. Why are there still falling shoes when I'm OUT??
The pandemic has further exacerbated the issue. Isolation, coupled with a maddening view of humanity, has only increased the feelings of rage, uncertainty, and definitely fatigue. It's been too much at times.
This side of eternity, we'll never be "on the other side of it." I'm simultaneously exhausted and relieved by this notion. Exhausted because with each passing day (as my body betrays me by continually aging and therefore falling apart), I'm often barely hanging onto a mere semblance of a thread of sanity. Relieved because I know at the end of it, Jesus. That's still a rough road to walk, because in total transparency, I'm pretty mad at Him right now. Mad, and also embarrassed to even acknowledge that I have the audacity to be angry at the King of kings.
Today, I'm going to make a decision to shift my view. I'll likely have to keep making this decision one harrowing minute at a time. I'm going to choose gratitude. Gratitude for the amazing church family that has WITHOUT FAIL supported us since the day Bob went hurtling off that ski jump with such unexpected consequences. They have ministered to us, prayed over us, financially supported us, fed us, and showed up in our driveway to lead worship in masks in the middle of a global pandemic. They have done home maintenance, they have provided rides, hospital visits, childcare, and a ramp for our home. They have been the hands and feet of Jesus in ways that are just astounding. Gratitude for friends, new and old, that have loved me when I've been seriously unlovable. Friends who've listened to me bemoan my entire life and question every true thing. Friends who've gotten me away from the mess for 5 minutes, 2 hours, a day or so. Friends who've humored my sarcasm and snarkiness, who've laughed with me, and not just at me, and who've pled with God on my behalf. Gratitude that my husband is still kicking... that we're not a statistic, as is so often the case in our situation. Gratitude that neither of us has smothered the other while we slept. Gratitude that we still choose to love each other in spite of everything we know about each other. Gratitude.
I'm going to do my level best to make year nine a healthier, saner, more uneventful year. I'm going to keep working out that anger with God, and get back to that sense of security in Him. I'm going to choose to leave the bitterness that welled up in my rear view, and just keep truckin' on. I'm going to try and keep disappointment out of my mindset. I'm going to try and be gentle with my words and actions. If you know me at all, you'll know just how much of a struggle that will be. I'll fail, more often than not, but I'm going to try anyway. I'm going to make these efforts, so that next year, when we mark an entire decade, the 'Anniversary Effect' will be a remembrance of a totally different kind. One of strength and fortitude and integrity. One of peace. A remembrance of the grace and mercy of God.
