The Papers

The security guard smiled. I took my number, found a seat, and waited. All ages of people surrounded me. Only a few conversations were audible. 

A young couple with a baby sat behind me. He talked and talked. Complained about the way she treated him. They argued. I wanted to shout at them to stop. They still had each other. My patience with selfish, petty behavior was gone. 

My number was called. I sat down at the window and pulled out my paperwork. 

“How may I help you?” the worker asked.

All I could muster was, “My husband passed away.” Then I slid my papers to her.

She understood though my words wouldn’t come because of the tears.

Three items: a marriage license, a death certificate, and a driver’s license. Two deaths. A wonderful marriage and a special life. 

How happy we were the day we signed our marriage license. A new life together full of love and dreams. 

How horrible is was the day I received the death certificate with his ashes. The close of a life here filled with loneliness. 

It seemed so cold and harsh to reduce a life to two papers. A beginning and an end. 

While she worked on her computer, she passed a box of kleenex to me. A roomful of people, but I was so alone. The ordeal wasn’t even over. She set up a phone interview to finalize the process in March. 

“Take it one day at a time,” she told me as I left.

I could only nod. More tears threatened. 

In the car, a flood of tears came as grief overtook me for a few minutes. Then they slowed to a trickle. The car moved on and so did I. The driver’s license led me to the future. Life wasn’t over even though it felt like it. 

In my mixed up world, God enfolds me and tells me that I will heal--eventually. He sends family and friends to console and encourage. No one can take away the grief, but each act of kindness makes the journey a little easier. 

Those who have traveled this same road tell me that it will get better. In the meantime, I have to endure the pain, cling to the memories, and rest in God’s care. 

Psalm 34: 18 When someone is hurting or brokenhearted, the Eternal moves in close and revives him in his pain. (The Voice)

Loving Father, hold me close and heal my wounds. Amen