There’s a framed picture on the wall in our bedroom that has the meaning of our names on it that we found when we got married.  So we had it personalized with the date of our wedding day and our names spelled like we spell them. Stephen with a “ph” and Michele with one “l”.  Under each name is the meaning of the name of some characteristics of people who are named Stephen and Michele.  The last line under Stephen’s name said, “reaches the finish line before all others.”  Yes that’s what he meant by reaching his ultimate destination, “to go and be with the Lord!”

As the various holidays come and go, I’ve found that along with them comes an anticipation of dread and leaves a feeling of sadness. Dread because the traditions and memories of how we celebrated them together always rise to the forefront of my mind. And we can’t celebrate them together anymore. Sadness because what once was a time of celebration has turned into a time of mourning. Resurrection Day was his favorite holiday.  He truly loved celebrating our risen Lord.  He didn’t like to call it Easter.  He mainly referred to it as Passover and he could give you the biblical references why he preferred it that way.  No argument here.  We just enjoyed the season of new life which is so appropriate for Spring time.  We’d almost always pull the grill out and enjoy time together on the deck. He loved getting his lawn equipment together to start keeping the grass cut.  Work slowed down some for him so as the end of the semester approached, he was more relaxed.  I enjoyed planning a spring road trip somewhere for our getaway. We always made time to worship and enjoy family communion together.  The memories certainly provided some sense of joy but nothing replaced that feeling of just wanting him near and wanting to talk to him. 

As I sat with the Lord with Stephen’s picture, I felt this overwhelming sense of I just wanted to hear his name.  I wanted to hear people talk about him and bring up some of the times they shared with him.  I wanted to talk about him and share some of our memories with others.  My dilemma in my mind was that I didn’t want to rain on anyone’s parade as they enjoyed family time with their loved ones.  Of course, I  was able to spend time with my family on the phone and via zoom which made the day go by quicker and lightened my mood. Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wanted to hear us call each other “honey” and someone else besides me talk about him. That feeling stays with me and I know people may hesitate to bring his name up in conversation maybe out of concern for me.  But for the grieving widow who loved her husband,  it is somewhat soothing to hear others say his name.  A sense of happiness rises in my heart to know that others thought about him too. A grave concern we have is that our loved one will not be remembered.  Although we don’t expect others to hold them as sacred in their hearts as we do, we feel the responsibility to keep their memory alive.  I’m sure it’s the same for anyone who grieves someone close to their heart.  They just want to know that they haven’t been forgotten. Life goes on and everyone has their challenges so it almost seems selfish in a way. But it is a real feeling that is hard to discuss with people. So as I sat with the Lord with Stephen’s picture, I looked at it and I said his name aloud over and over again. I hope he heard me. And most importantly, I know God heard me because I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of His Love for me. My world became brighter and lighter in that moment. No greater love! 

Just sharing my morning musings, “Say their name,” it makes the grieving heart glad!