After giving Staci James a bear hug at the Overdose Awareness Event in Little Rock, Arkansas, she asked me when another blog would be coming. I told her “I don’t know…I’m in a different season now.” I thought I was all out of poignant things to say…things that needed to be voiced for my husband and all of the 4,350 faces on those 29 Can You See Me Now banners.
This week, however, I was proven wrong when I stumbled upon the news that a cousin in Oklahoma City was starting her journey in the shoes that so many of us have worn. She had found her husband the morning before and when I quickly video called, I was hit with a view of ME. Curled up in a fetal position on her side, clutching her chest, and her face screwed up into the most heartbreaking wails, sobbing “I can’t do this without him.”
Isn’t it ironic that I don’t even have to mention the manner that he died? We all already know. We’ve all been there. We’ve all felt that shattering at the very core of our bodies as our hearts remember what our minds start to close down to. To say I was affected as I spoke with her sister is inadequate. And as I rejoice for two different couples and their happiness, my heart is heavy tonight for my cousin and the 5 precious people that die per minute in the US.
In the rooms of Narcotics Anonymous, two terms are casually mentioned every so often-winners and losers. “Stick with the winners -“ they say. I’ve never agreed with that because it denotes that people who struggle harder than others are somehow losers. We didn’t like being called losers in elementary school, so why is it ok now as mature adults? But those two terms come to mind thinking of the two extremes going on in my heart.
One end of the spectrum is the frustration and anguish that I can’t take this pain from my family member. I’m already a pro at it. I can handle it. But this isn’t my journey to walk, it’s hers. The other end is, even through my own pain about Vincent John, my heart rejoices in one close friend getting married in November and then mine and Vince’s best friends coming into so many good things in life. Both couples have known hardship, there hasn’t been any easy way out. All four people also have very different stories to tell.
But that’s where grief sharpens us. We come face to face and conquer our own pain and then we became hungry for the stories and testimonies of others. I realized that no matter how well-kept an appearance is, there’s always a remnant of abuse, or addiction, or shame, or miscarriage. I wanted to understand those around me and to understand, I had to come face to face with the thing that scared me the most: human interaction.
Someone’s winning season will always be someone else’s losing season and I have talked a few times with one of my best friends about God’s timing. As I continue my journey, I know that God has something in store for me. I don’t know what it is or in what form it will come, but I’m fully aware that I’ve been kept for some reason. I’m still going through a losing season..I’ve lost money, I’ve lost friends, I’ve lost people that were supposed to genuinely be there for me and I later found out it wasn’t as it seemed. I lost my future, I lost my heart, I lost my faith for a short time, and I lost my will for longer.
Sometimes losing seasons are just clearing obstacles and God is telling us, “OK, you’re clearly not hearing me, so let me get rid of some distractions for you.” That’s why I have SO much love in my heart for these two couples. This is why I can genuinely be ecstatic that they’re in their winning season because I know in time, I’ll have mine too.
Nicole D’Andrea
