In Case You Didn't Know

I went by the site of my husband's fatal motorcycle accident the other day.

I stopped by just to see how it felt.

If I still felt a little closer to John standing in the exact spot where his life ended.

I always hope I feel...something...

I want God to speak to me as I crouch down next to the spot where his life was stolen from him.

I want a sign, a symbol, a reassurance that God still sees me...still remembers the widow He allowed me to become. Not that I actually think He’s forgotten me…but in the moment I stop and look at the same mountain that John surely looked at in the moments before his death…I just hope for a little something more for the heartache that he left behind.

But in all the times I've stopped by the accident site in the last 2.5 years, I've never received any type of sign.

What I have experienced is the fading...

The fading of the stains on the road from the accident.

The fading of the grooves in the asphalt from his motorcycle.

The fading of the mark my wedding rings made on my finger.

The fading of the memory of what it felt like to be held...and loved.

The fading of John’s voice in my mind.

The fading of the harshness of widowhood.

The fading of the nasty scars that motorcycle accident gave me despite my actually not being in it.

The fading of who I used to be.

But never a sign...

I'm not exactly sure what I look for...but I do know that I've never found it. But every once in a while I go there...and I tell John about the life he left behind. The life I chose to continue living while carrying his legacy with me.

"In case you didn't know...” I tell to the man who I am fairly certain is completely enamored with his Heavenly Father and has no interest in these earthly happenings.

But I still tell him, every once in a while, how much I miss him, how I finally got to be a mom, how hard it truly is to do it all on my own...even though I know that I'm not truly alone.

I want that little patch of road to mean nothing. I want to only be effected by the life John lived, not the moment it ended. But the moment his life ended destroyed a whole lot of me...and a whole lot of others too. So, I don't think it's ever going to truly not matter, as much as I want it to.

And as much as Christ has healed and grown me, as much as He has redeemed parts of my story...this part still hurts sometimes...still finds me wiping away tears beside a little country highway.

A little country highway that will never hold any importance to most people.

But it does to me...in case you didn't know.

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