This pops up on my timeline on Facebook, from one year ago today (May 17, 2016):

O Happy Day! Bill’s scans came back clear and he’s officially in remission! Thank you God! And thank you for all your prayers and support!

I sit here one year later so full of loss and sadness.

I read this in Psalms:  You Lord, are my glory and lifter of my head. I cried aloud to the Lord and He answered me from his Holy hill.

Laying in bed yesterday, I contemplate ways to end my life.  Pills are out of the question as I struggle to swallow a single pill without multiple attempts. Maybe cough suppressant?

“Lift my head Lord out of the mire of misery and cup your hands around my face. Wipe my sorrow away and fill me with your joy again, and excitement to just be near you and hear you and follow you. I love you.”

…

Job wishes he was never born.

Why did Job desire to never be born? Was it his personal pain he tired from enduring, or was the deeper pain from losing the ones he loved?

I miss him so much. I miss the man who walked alongside each other for my entire adulthood.

I miss our plans to empty nest.
I miss his presence here with me.

I want to get to a place when I can reminisce him without feeling like I’m dying too.

Maybe the land of in-between is being alive but feeling like you want to die.

Like George Bailey, it wasn’t until he realized the impact he had, that he longed to live again. Is it true Lord that my main purpose in Bill’s life was to guide him to you?

Help me to accept this as enough.

Because in some ways I wish I were 80 years old dealing with this so I wouldn’t have the probability of having to wait long to see him, or the thought of beginning a new beginning without him.