Signs of Healing!

December 3, 2005 - with the tree up and decorated, I decided it was time to wrap some of the presents that I had bought for my grandsons...and I had a plan...Scooby Doo paper for two year old Will's gifts and Batman wrapping paper for five year old Jack. They could easily tell their gifts apart and so far, I found I was doing good...three gifts for each of the oldest and three for baby Sam. As I signed the cards "from Mimi", my thoughts drifted back to the first Christmas after Mike died. As I wrapped the gifts that year, I automatically started to write "from Pawpaw and Mimi" or "from Pam and Mike." I remember crying as I did each "from" card. Who would have ever thought wrapping gifts could be so painful? Tonight I realized I filled out all the cards before it struck me that it was natural to put just my name on the card. WOW! Another sign of healing! Thank you, Lord, that little by little the single Pam is learning to live in her new idenity and thank you, for allowing me to see how far I have come.

The Tree Goes Up And The Lights Still Sparkle!

Here it is ...my third Christmas as a widow aka "single wife." This year so far is much easier on my emotions and there is a twinkle of light in my heart once again replacing the sadness that hung there before. Deciding last night to put up my Christmas tree, I determined to get the 71/2 foot tree up by myself. I dragged it down the steps and actually did get it put together which was an interesting and probably comical feat for a 5 ft 2 grandma! Next I began to bring down boxes of Christmas ornaments from the attic.
Mike and I were married on December 22, 1970 and that first year the ornaments were a few crudely crafted felt ones that I excitedly designed as a starry eyed 19-year-old bride. They were among the first I found last night. Then I found the ones from our second year of marriage...unfinished wooden ornaments that we purchased and painted together. Memories began to flood my heart as I sifted through the thirty-five year collection of ornaments. There were the ornaments from some travels we took...there was my Sante Fe ornament and my North Pole ornament from a Colorado trip. There were many sheep ornaments and many manger ornaments in my hodgepodge of stuff. Oh and among my most treasured in my assortment were two antique rust-topped ornaments that my son found in an old barn at my childhood home in Mississippi a few years ago...they once decked the fresh cut pine trees that my sister and I decorated in our old farm house. There were bicentennial ornaments and homeroom-mother ornaments that I made for my son's class years ago. There were ornaments that friends gave me and ones that my grandchildren gave me. Then there were special ones that my son made as a child and little framed ornaments of pictures of my children and even my grandchildren...those many years of collecting ornaments made for a heavily laden tree and many sweet and precious memories.
As I decorated the tree alone last night and listened to Christmas music, the sadness that flooded my heart the first two Christmases without Mike, truly was greatly lessened. In its place were praise and Thanksgiving to the Lord for the sweet years of blessings that were mine and for the new path of blessing gradually unfolding before me. Yes, I did feel some sadness and yes, I did feel some loneliness and a longing for by gone years...but most of all I enjoyed the vivid memories that each ornament brought forth.
Today as I enjoyed the decorated tree pieced together from my thirty five years of collecting, I knew I wanted my life to reflect the beauty I see in my Christmas tree. I want to treasure special moments and recall them throughout each year and let them adorn my heart just as those ornaments adorn my tree and I want my life to point upward just as my tree does...upwards toward Him!!!
Thank you, Lord, and teach me to live a life of joy, praise, and expectation as I move forward toward that day that I too see Your face and am with You!

First Christmas in Heaven

In March of 2001 my only sister died of Melanoma. Christmas of 2001 and 2002 my sister's daughter and husband traveled from their home in Alabama to spend the holiday with us. My mom was able to come from MS and as a family we grieved together the loss of my sister. By Christmas of 2002, my husband had been diagnosed with Melanoma but we just could not allow ourselves to even think that he would lose his battle too. But Christmas of 2003 found me grieving his loss. It was almost inconceivable to me that both my sister and my husband were gone. The thought of Christmas without my husband made me almost ill. Then as it approached, it soon came into focus that none of my family was able to come for the holidays. My mom's health was too fragile for her to make the trip and my neice could not come either. My son and his wife had her family as well as me to split their time with, and it became apparent to me on about December 17 that I would be alone much of Christmas Eve. It was almost more than I could bear....and yet during that time God spoke to my heart and I knew that He would be my sustainer, and I would be okay. During this time someone shared the following poem...it brought me much strength as I faced my first Christmas without Mike. May it bring you strength as well and may God hold you close.

First Christmas in Heaven

by Wanda Bencke

I see the countless Christmas Trees

Around the world below

With tiny lights

Like heaven's stars

Reflecting on the snow

The sight is so spectacular
Please wipe away that tear

For I am spending Christmas

With Jesus Christ this year

I hear the many Christmas songs

That people hold so dear

But the sounds of music can't compare

With the Christmas choir up here

I have no words to tell you

The joy their voices bring

For it is beyond description

To hear the angels sing

I know how much you miss me

I see the pain inside your heart

But I am not so far away

We really aren't apart

So be happy for me dear ones

You know I hold you dear

And be glad I'm spending Christmas

With Jesus Christ this year

I send you each a special gift

From my heavenly home above

I send you each a memory ofMy undying love

After all "love" is the gift

More precious than pure gold

It was always most important

In the stories Jesus told

Please love and keep each other

As my Father said to do

For I can't count the blessing

Or love he has for each of you
So have a Merry Christmas

And wipe away that tear

Remember I am spending Christmas

With Jesus Christ this year.
A note from the author "Wanda Bencke"Lysandra Kay Bencke was my thirteen year old handicapped daughter.On Christmas day 1997, Lysandra had a seizure and was in a coma for five days before she passed away.During those five days I wrote"Christmas in Heaven".

Some Times There Is No More!

"One day someone's spouse died and on that clear, cold morning in the warmth of their bedroom the remaining spouse was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't any more. No more hugs, no more special moments to celebrate together, no more phone calls just to chat and no more "just one minute." Sometimes, what we care about the most gets all used up and goes away, never to return before we can say good-bye, or say "I love you.." So while we have it . . it's best we love it . . . and care for it . . . and fix it when it's broken . . . and heal it when it's sick. This is true . . . for marriage . . . and old cars . . . and children with bad report cards . . . and dogs with bad hips and aging parents and grandparents. We keep them because they are worth it, because we are worth it." Author Unknown

Today, over two years after my husband's death, I contemplate the words above. How true they are. Life is about change and nothing is forever, yet often we take so many things for granted. I hold my newest grandbaby who is two months old, and glance over at the first born grandson who is already five years old, and realize that these precious moments are precious but so fleeting. Will I cherish these moments as I should? Will I remember to rejoice in each new day because I've learned first hand that "Sometimes there is no more!"

Lord help me to cherish my health, my family, the life I once had with Mike, and the life I have now.  Help me to embrace these new lessons that I am learning as I walk this path called widowhood and please use the lessons as a lifeline to someone now walking in this place called "when there is no more!"  Lord, help us all to remember when every single thing changes, You remain the same. Hebrews 13:8 (NIV) Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. Thank you, LORD!!

Another Sunday Alone

Another Sunday church service ended.  I walked to my car, and drove toward a drive-thru, wanting to get the lunch thing behind me. Why did Sundays seem so hard? Then I allowed memories of past years to float through my mind.

Growing up on a farm in Southern Mississippi, Saturday was a preparation day for Sunday. We mopped the floors, dusted the furniture, and made certain our clothes were ready for Sunday. We shined our shoes and cooked at least a part of the meal that we'd share together after Sunday's services. Even my thoughts, made me recall how incredilble Mother's fried chicken tasted and what wonderful meals we shared.

Then when I married at age 19, the day was once again a family affair...first my husband and I spent it together and then as our children came along, the tradition of the big family meal continued. Many Sunday's we would  invite friends home from church to eat with us.

The years flew by and our kids grew up, and we became empty nesters. We started a new tradition...each Sunday after church we went out to eat..sometimes with friends and sometimes just the two of us but once again it was a time to enjoy and share together.

July of 2002 brought a new twist to our lives. My husband of 32 years was diagnosed with Melanoma and one Sunday in July of 2003, we shared our last Sunday meal together...and by August of 2003, my sweet husband was gone.

Now  I was trying to learn to live this new life as a widow. As I waited in the drive-thru line, I saw couples strolling into the restaurant holding hands. I struggled to fight back the tears, knowing that had been me not so many months before. I wanted to let down the window and say "Do you know how blessed you are? Do you know how  precious this time is? Do you know that everything is just for a season? Please, please cherish each other and these moments!"

Yes, my journey was taking me through a new season of life, and I didn't like it. But I knew many had walked this path before me, and they had survived.  I would, too, with God's help and one day I'd find a new norm. Until then, I would keep putting one foot in front of the other and thanking God for what I once had!! I'd been blessed...thank you, Lord, for all the Sunday's that were filled with joy and fellowship. Help me to recognize Your new blessings as they come and to live with a thankful and expectant heart.
By Pam Whitley

In Pieces

My two precious grandsons sit on the quilt
that I made for my son for Christmas of 2003!

It would be my first Christmas without my beloved husband of thirty-two years. I found myself in a store buying flowers for his new tombstone as I watched others buying decorations for their Christmas trees. I found myself sorting through the remnants of his life as others prepared for family get-togethers. I knew I must find something constructive to do in the midst of all the pain.
Walking into our closet, memories flooded my soul as I saw five of my husband Mike’s favorite shirts. When our son, Ben, was in college in the early 90’s, the big flannel shirt became the fashion craze. I purchased two or three of those heavy ‘big shirts’(as they were called) for Christmas for Ben and every time he came home for the weekend, Mike would raid his closet and come out wearing one of those shirts. It became a joke. For the next few years, I bought Ben and Mike identical flannel shirts for Christmas. Ten years later, those shirts had continued to be Mike’s favorites. In fact, as he started chemo and felt chilled much of the time, he lived in those shirts.
Taking the shirts off their hangers, I laid them in a corner of my sewing room. I knew I must do something very special with them but it took a few days to get the courage to cut into the shirts. Perhaps dismantling them bore too much of a parallel to what had happened to our lives.
I found I could get several 8-inch wide strips from the front and the backs of the shirts as well as from the sleeves. Then I cut those strips into as many squares as I could, and soon I was sewing the squares back together and a quilt began to emerge.
As friends looked at my work in progress, they commented on what great choices I had made for my color combinations. Actually, I had not chosen them. They were just all of his shirts, and together they formed a beautiful color palette.
It seemed impossible to finish my project by Christmas, but I was determined. For
such a sad Christmas, there just had to be something special to give Ben, and I knew this was it. I asked God to give me the strength to complete my project and day-by-day the quilt grew larger. I sewed the labels of the shirts in some of the squares and deliberately cut strips with
pockets so that it would always be evident that the quilt was made from shirts. To finish off the project, I bordered the quilt in navy and then I machine quilted the whole
thing in a free hand motion style. I was able at times to turn my free hand motion
movements into words.
Within the quilt I wrote Whitley, 2003, Mike, Pam, Ben, Steph, Jack, and Will. I wanted this quilt to be a treasure for the generations to come. I could envision one day our grandsons searching the borders for the names woven into the design and Ben sharing fondly the memories of his dad and the shirts
On Christmas, as our son opened his gift, tears welled up in his eyes and the look on his face and the hug I received was salve to my hurting heart and I knew God was at work using the shattered pieces of our lives to bring forth treasure in the darkness.
by Pam Whitley

The Diagnosis That Changed Our Lives

Written One Year After Mike's Death - by Pam
I can say that I honestly never thought about the possibility of becoming a widow…. most women probably don’t …..at least not when ones spouse is healthy and fairly young. Perhaps we are just too busy living to think of the possibility of such a thing. But one evening after my husband played golf, he showered and noticed a knot under his right arm. It hadn't been there the evening before. A few doctors appointments later and one surgery, on July 5, 2002, our doctor called  with devastating news. As my husband and I both listened on the phone,  Dr. Deck said, “I am so sorry to tell you this but lab reports on the tissue show it to be Malignant Melanoma.”

We both gasped in disbelief. After all, we had already fought Melanoma and knew it was the deadliest form of skin cancer. Only 15 months before, I'd taken care of my sister the last week of her life as she lost her battle to this deadly disease. To make matters worse, we knew that in my sister’s case, the Melanoma went to the brain. I can remember my husband and I both standing totally stunned as we received the diagnosis. We hung up the phone and just held each other and sobbed, knowing that life as we'd known it was over and our world would never be the same. We called our son and told him that we needed to talk to him. We couldn’t deliver such news over the phone. Driving over to his house, we rode in shocked silence. Arriving, we sat down and broke the news as gently as we could. I remember us circling Mike and praying over him and asking God to sustain us.

As the days went by, I thought that I couldn't bare this diagnosis. I had flash backs of my sister’s death, of her fever going to 106, of meeting her at MD Anderson on Christmas day of 2000, of how sick she became and how fast the cancer spread.

“Oh Lord,” I cried, “I can’t bare this! Please, Lord, I can’t!” And my constant prayer became, “Heal Mike! Show me, Lord, what I can do!” And thus began my constant research of Melanoma online. I attacked the news just as I had the news 24 years earlier when our daughter had suffered brain damage. I thought I could make her well if I believed hard enough, fought hard enough, found the right combination of vitamins and once again, I veered into that path of the “fix it lady,” this time as a wife instead of a mom. I researched night and day. I juiced veggies, I bought supplements, I wouldn't let this cancer take my beloved Mike. But as hard as we fought, there came the day that we found the Melanoma had gone to the brain and the treatments were not working nor our radical efforts…. we had to face the fact that this disease was probably going to end in death. AND thank God, Mike knew Whom He believed in and began to look toward Home with courage and Peace.
I, on the other hand, thought I couldn't face losing Mike. I thought I couldn't go on if I was left alone. I thought I'd die too and a part of me did die that August day as Mike breathed his last breath. Yet in my heart, I knew I had to go on and that God’s Grace would be sufficient. I learned to ‘gut it up’ as Mike used to tell our son. I made myself walk where I didn’t want to walk. 

One of my hardest things was going to church alone. That was something Mike and I always did together….I hated going into the midst of couples and feeling Mike’s absence so keenly. Each Sunday as I drove into the church parking lot, a new wave of grief would almost take my breath away. But I knew if I was ever to be whole again, I had to face the pain and walk through it. 

I'm still facing the pain and walking through it one day at a time. It'll soon be a year since I hugged my precious Mike good-bye ….and I can say, I've made it.
Has it been hard? You bet, it's been awful….yet in the pain, I've grown. I'm stronger and I know one day I'll be able to breathe-in without the gnawing hole that is still in my heart. I know that God is going to bring me through this trial and that He, in His Grace, is equipping me to help others that'll walk here. I'll keep putting one foot in front of the other, with my eyes focused on Him. He's able to do abundantly above that which I'm able to imagine. I'll choose to continue to trust an all knowing God with an unknown future as I daily cry out to Him to sustain me.  I'll trust Him to do that which He has promised…to carry me when I can’t walk, to make the crooked way straight before me, and to sustain me with His power when the night is long. I'll believe that the best is yet to be…and one day I will look into my Father’s eyes, and I'll  walk those streets of gold, and  see Mike again! Yes, I'll keep putting one foot in front of the other until I, too, finish my course and arrive Home!