The song "I Go To Pieces" reminds me of my husband's death. Like the verse, "I go to places we used to go, but I know that he'll never show." I did that. I used to go to a liquor store, buy vodka, pour it in a water bottle, and sit on a bench behind a Catholic Church. It was on a mountain, and I liked to look down on the scene below me and say the Lord's Prayer. This was wine country and there were pretty vineyards. Then I would take a long gulp of vodka for fortification. Was I really abandoned? I would think to myself. It looked that way. I sometimes visited the church and prayed in there too. Sometimes I even played the piano. Once I lit a candle and noticed the holy water. I decided I needed that, so I got a water bottle and filled it with holy water and took it home. I put it in the refrigerator and drank some of it sometimes. Another time I was parked on the other side of the church and happened to think of watering the rose bushes. There was a woman there that I hadn't noticed who saw my concern for the roses, and came over and befriended me. She led me on a tour of the church, told me a little history, and invited me up to the altar to pray, and went so far as to suggest that we kneel. It was a nice visit.
I dealt with the void by memorizing Scripture. It actually made me feel safer. The level of depression was frightening. What was causing it? I decided it must be Satan messing with me. He couldn't penetrate my mind when I was focused on Scripture, I felt. That actually worked.
The first place I started to memorize was the Book of Revelation. I spent a lot of time on this and after a few months I had memorized the entire book. During that time I refused to allow my mind to wander. I wanted to memorize Revelation because, having heard so many bizarre things about what was said, I endeavored to find out for myself. It's an involved book, and most of the time when people talk about it they mix in a lot of other prophesies, especially from Daniel, as if they're all in the Book of Revelation. This confuses the picture.
Then I moved on to Psalm 119, which is a favorite portion to memorize at church groups. It is 176 verses. I liked to sit on the back porch in my rocking chair and recite the entire psalm aloud, once I had memorized it. One nice fall day I was reciting the verses aloud when I was startled to realize there was a man standing in front of me. How long had he been there? I wondered. He stood about ten feet away, and must have heard me talking. Why was he there? Why hadn't he spoken to me? Why was his hoodie up? It was a warm day. He seemed to be trying to hide his identity.
The man was turned to the side and with the hood up, I couldn't see his face at all, or any part of him not covered by clothing, except his hands. He stood completely still for a minute or two, and we seemed to be at some impasse, since I didn't know what to do. I was unnerved enough that I was reluctant to approach him or speak to him. So I sat and stared at him, and he stood completely still for what seemed like a long time. Where had he come from?
Then eventually he began to walk away ever so slowly, as if he thought that if he moved slowly enough I might not notice him. Oh I noticed. OK, I made up my mind I was going to get to the bottom of this, and walked to where he had been standing to see where he went. He walked so strangely, as if he were floating. No fallen leaves crunched under his feet. He eventually got about twenty five feet away, and as I scrutinized him, I noticed that he was becoming less distinct and blurry. And in fact, he vanished, just like that. I was vexed about this and saw that he had made a clean getaway in spite of my best efforts. I puzzled over his escape. Vanishing? He just fizzled. Was he a ghost? What just happened?
There is just no good explanation for this. File it under mystery. I like to think Jim finally showed up.
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