'while it was still dark'
By Adaline Bjorkman
Adaline Bjorkman was a long time board member of Lumunos, and a frequent contributor to this magazine. Adaline was a prolific writer. She wrote ‘while it was still dark’ as a way to deal with the death of her husband. The following are excerpts from that book.Second Day Things
The event of death has thrust me byjet propulsion
Into a strange and foreign land,
Unheard of, unseen events.
That drawer, that closet, choose
clothes for death?
Those flowers here because A. has
gone away?
Choose a casket, choose a song,
choose a verse, choose a plot?
This is a strange and eerie world….a
nightmare
Unmarked and unconstructed roads.
God, I’m not sure I’ll find my way.
I know thousands tramp this
unmarked path but
This is my emigration.
I cry and the pain is washed away—
temporarily
I
Must
Go
This
Road
Alone
Even
Though
There
Are
Friends
Who
Care.
What shall I say when people ask,
“How do you feel?”
There is no way to say it.
“A cold icy shadow in the heart?”
“A sick feeling in the pit of the
stomach?”
“A dull ache—a vise of fear?”
Your cards of sympathy came
Pretty, appropriate
Gold, black, and silver printed.
He’s this
He’s that
He’s there.
Of this I’m very sure
He’s not here.
I’ve had to lose something
To find something.
Death reveals the truth about me.
Dare I look?
I am naked.
The clothes that covered me in good
days
Are stripped away.
Dear God, how do I look?
Poised between past and future
Now is so unreal.
The sharp edge of events
Has penetrated my façade.
Comfort
Some say it,
Others live it.
Some say it,
Others give it.
It’s the “business” of death again
Your social security number
Your death certificate
Our marriage license
My birth certificate
Flat and lifeless on my desk.
To prove to courts and lawyers
We’ve lived.
You’ve died.
All
To get me on with living.
May 1
Today on this second anniversary I sense healing. Two years of your being gone—the awful countdown—the clock watching, the counting of each hour in recall of that final day, did not occur this year as last. The day passed with an undercurrent of sorrow, brightened by the calls of two friends. One remembered the day and invited me to dinner so that I would not be alone. Let me describe it as a day of flight and shadow . . . somewhat the way the sun played hide-and-seek with the clouds. Our pastor called. “I’ve thought about you today and I’ve prayed for you.” Mary E. in her uncomplicated way of comforting said, “Mom, I want you to know I love my ‘Mommie.’” A simple way to say she remembered, “It is May 1.”At Last
It’s here on this beach it happened, began, new life. It’s all a part of a hundred little happenings over the past three years. I’ve walked the beach today pretty much as usual but this was a beach happening . . . about 100 yards down the lake from the public stairway. My arms were thrown wide open to you, O God. Life is O.K. again. I can live it, leaving behind the bitterness of aloneness.Excerpted from ‘while it was still dark,’ by Adaline Bjorkman © 1997. Published by Covenant
Publications. Used with permission.
‘while it was still dark’ can be purchased at CovenantBookstore.com