Adjusting to Being Alone

Last time I wrote anything at all on this blog was on November 12th, 2022, just six days before my wife Suni went Home to Heaven. I ended that post by stating I would probably write about it more, once I had recovered from her passing. Well, I’m finally realizing that I don’t think I’m going to recover from her passing. On the other hand, I do need to go forward with the rest of my life. Things are so different now. On a positive note, I did some good things that I had previously resisted. Though Suni had strongly and persistently encouraged me to do these things, I had consistently come up with reasons and excuses as to why I couldn’t do them at just that time.

First, I became much more involved at our church. I joined the “greeter’s team”, I became part of the Men’s ministry leadership, I attended all of the meetings and bible studies, I volunteered every month for the church maintenance tasks, and I started playing piano with the Worship team sometimes for our Wednesday potluck and bible study. I even went on my first Men’s retreat and really enjoyed it. Obviously, a primary reason for doing these things, if I’m honest, was to keep busy and divert my attention from thinking too much about Suni. But an additional benefit derived by doing those things was that it helped me to move away from worrying so much about my loss and, instead, focus my efforts more towards others. That said, I still have a long way to go in that area of my life.

In addition, I just recently returned from a wonderful trip to Israel, one that Suni and I had begun planning for well over two years. We knew, even then, that there was the possibility of it never happening, or at least not in the way we had envisioned it happening. Initially, I had flatly refused her suggestion to go on the trip even if she couldn’t make it there. In the end, I decided to go because I believe she really did want me to have that incredible experience of seeing the Holy Land despite the reality that she wouldn’t be there, at least physically, with me. I speculate that perhaps she knew she was going to see all of these things before I did anyway; that she was excited to be there with me–if in spirit only–when I encountered the wonder, the glory, the history of the land, and the Bible coming alive before my eyes. It was a marvelous trip and yet there was a distinct bittersweetness about it. It was the first trip (and such a momentous trip) that I have taken without her in over thirty years.

lOn a less positive note, I have had four major colds (maybe some of them were flu?), a bad case of acid reflux, some skin problems, lack of sleep, and almost daily bouts with depression and anxiety ever since the day Suni passed. Without our daily rituals of cooking, walking, and praying together, I have neither eaten well nor kept myself In good physical or spiritual shape. I have started to correct some of those things in the last couple of months. It may seem trivial, but I bought an Apple Watch recently (before the trip to Israel) which constantly pesters me to Stand, Move, and Exercise so I can “achieve my fitness goals”. I think that this has actually motivated me, not in a small way, to revert back towards better health practices. I’m starting to feel a little better now, working out and striving to eat better foods. I still need to substantially improve my prayer life and go back to doing daily devotions.

The hardest part for me is waking up by myself every morning and wondering how it is that she’s not here anymore! As I said in my earlier post, waking up with her and thinking about what was in store for us each day was the sweetest thing in my life, and the thing I still miss the most. It usually takes me awhile each morning to accept it, but then I’m able to get up and do the things that have to be done. I still have this little passport picture of Suni looking at me (it seems, directly from Heaven) as if to say “Don’t worry, Tim, I’m OK. I’m sitting here with Jesus and we’re just waiting for you to get here”. I look at this picture everyday; it always makes me smile and cry.

I think I have more to say. Maybe some fun (and funny) stories about Suni.

Love You and miss You greatly, sweetheart!