Looking Back

I'm sitting at Panera this morning and there's a couple outside the window. Neither are wearing wedding rings. Both are probably in their 40s or 50s. They are talking and listening, smiling and joking. All in a language I can't understand. But what's between them is something I long for. Something I miss. Maybe it's a new relationship. Maybe it's one that's been weathered by time. But the way he looks at her like she's something special - someone to be treasured - a face he enjoys to see - it puts an ache in my heart.

I've started looking back lately. It started with a course I'm taking through the Allender Center. To Be Told. All about looking at and sharing my life story and God's redemptive hand in it.

I realized that I tell my story a lot like this: My childhood was pretty good but I don't remember it much. Meeting G in college and getting married. He had a heart transplant. Life has been hard. God gave us our wonderful son. G died.

There's so much there. Why don't I remember much about my childhood? Why do I cry when I'm asked to share about it?

G didn't just have a transplant. That is the sort of "sexy" day - the catchy line that gets attention. No, we went through years of medical hell. Confusion. Fear. Trauma. Anxiety. Questions. Unnecessary surgeries. Deaths of dreams. It was a nightmare - and the transplant was just a peak moment that wraps up in a bow what would only ever be wrapped up in death.

ARVD changed our lives. Changed us. Our relationships. Our future. Our plans. Our marriage.

ARVD impacted where we lived, what we did, how many kids we had.

ARVD shaped us and changed us and brought some beautiful moments and a whole lot of nightmare moments into our life.

So I'm looking back. I'm reading back through a blog that we and some family contributed to from 2010-2016 to keep people posted on G's medical condition. In many ways I feel like I'm reading someone else's life. It feels like a lifetime ago. Maybe a different lifetime altogether. Any why do I remember so little of it? How could something that indelibly shaped me become one line - my husband had a heart transplant. and it's not like in the movies. Why have I been summing it up that way? Why not, my husband went through hell. I went through hell. Our lives were wrecked and had to be rebuilt - with new rules and a scary time line. Why not - I have been THROUGH it. Treat me tenderly. Life has been hard.

Why have I tried to run so hard for so long from what I've experienced? What am I afraid of?

I'm looking back now. Let's see what I find.