More random thoughts on my journey following the death of my wife, Renee.

Here are some things I never thought would be said of me: Widower, Single Father, Single Again. Obviously, the first two, with slight modifications, apply equally to women; the third is already universal. I don't know why it never occurred to me that these "titles", worn by so many people in our world, might someday apply to me. I think I just assumed that there was a much greater likelihood that Renee would end up being a Widow, a Single Mother, and Single Again than it would be me. Statistics show that husbands are more likely to die before their wives. So, going with the odds, going with the trends, I never gave a thought to the other option.

And, I simply assumed that, when it happened, she would easily walk through the life-changes that would come with taking on those roles. Oh sure, there would be a time of grief [I mean, right?]. But, other than that, I didn't really foresee her having any problems. She always was, by nature, competent in everything to which she directed her energy. She never had any problems adjusting to every other role that had been handed to her: Wife, Married College Student, Mother, Mother of a Special Child, Deacon's Wife, Elder's Wife, Preacher's Wife. The duties and responsibilities changed and grew with every new role, but each time, she was more than equal to the task. I think I am correct to say that, given the "opportunity", and just as she had mastered every other role in her life, she would have made a "great" Widow and Single Mother!

But I was not prepared in any way - mentally, physically, spiritually - to step into the new roles of Widower, Single Father, Single Again that were suddenly thrust upon me. I literally went to sleep as a husband and married father, and woke up a Widower and Single Father. Even now, eight months later, none of it makes any sense to me. I still speak in "married" terms - "our" house, "our" child, "our" car, etc. If there is such a thing as a "great" Widower and Single Father, I am not there, not even close. Nor am I seeing any real progress being made. Everything is still difficult, and I guess it will always be this way.

Here's something I never thought I would say: "Friday evening, I dug a grave for my wife."

Those words almost sound foolish in our modern era; they sound like something that might have been said 200 years ago, or on the Great Frontiers of our National development. But not here, not now. Other people are supposed to do that for you now - but only after you have had enough time with her, living life to the full, right? Only after you have prepared yourself - mentally, physically and spiritually - for that moment, right? How could it be that I needed a grave for her so soon? I was not ready.

Yet that is how I spent my Friday evening. And even though I had known for nearly eight months that this moment was coming, I was not really prepared - mentally, physically or spiritually - for this surreal experience. It was not something that was taught in school. It was not something anyone else I ever knew had experienced and could pass along helpful hints about how one best goes about digging a grave for his wife. Still, with eight months to consider all of the ramifications of digging a grave for my wife, you might think I could or should have been fully, or at least partially, ready.

Right. Exactly how does one go about preparing for an experience in which the physical world literally intersects with the spiritual world? This is perhaps asking too much of a mere human. I knew it was coming, and I thought of it often, but I could never get past the the idea that it would be my hands that would create the place and the moment of that strange intersection of the physical world with the spiritual world. Each time I would think of it, I would conclude, as did the writer of Proverbs 30:18, that there are some things, that are "too wonderful for me to understand." And that was pretty much the only thought that kept repeating in my mind Friday night as I carefully dug a final resting place for my wife - "this is too wonderful, too strange, too deep for me to understand."

Then, in a brief and sweet moment Saturday afternoon, in the presence of God and a few friends and family, I did something else I never thought I would do, the last service I would ever do for Renee in this world. I myself laid her to rest in the grave I dug for her. And there may she lie in peace until the world is changed, until the Lord says, "Arise!", until

that day we join the resurrection

and stand beside the heroes of the faith

with one voice a thousand generations

sing worthy is the Lamb who was slain

forever He shall reign.

So let it be today.

[from "Hymn of Heaven", by Phil Wickham]

Amen. Let it be today.

Ambrose Ramsey | Pastor and Shepherd