There Is a Place

In her hospice room two nights before she died, I was watching the presidential debate between John McCain and Barack Obama, and afterwards I told Amie, who by that point could not open her eyes or speak, "It looks like Obama is going to be our next president." She always trusted my political instincts (not sure why) so I assume she believed I would be right about my prediction. Perhaps that memory coupled with today's inauguration inspired this update.

The holidays were difficult and intense for me, beginning with Thanksgiving, which I spent in New Jersey with my family. Driving 9 hours alone on I-70 and the PA Turnpike, a route Amie and I drove together countless times, was difficult enough. Though thankful for the many blessings God has given us, our whole family was sad. When a bright spirit such as Amie is missing, the feeling of absence and loss is fierce and unyielding, and we all felt that, and it was good to be with each other that day.

After a great Advent season, which included going with my choir to sing at the hospital in which Bianca died and Amie spent two weeks, I flew down to my parents' condo in South Florida on Christmas and was there through the first few days of the New Year. Particularly difficult was New Year's Eve. Amie and I had spent so many New Year's celebrations with family and friends, often at fun parties, dancing and having a great time. We were in New York City for Y2K, wondering if the city would spiral into computer chaos, but we woke up to a peaceful, sunny day. Once we were at Amie's brother's home in Harrisburg, once with my parents. It always felt good to be with her as we remembered the year gone by and looked at what was ahead of us.

This time I was with my family at an outdoor celebration in downtown Delray Beach, and early in the evening there were hundreds of families enjoying the festivities together. It was overwhelming for me, as I looked at husbands and wives holding hands and little girls in their father's arms, and I wondered what that would have felt like. As the evening went on, young people began showing up, dressed up to usher in 2009 at club parties all along the main strip and of course that reminded me of the times Amie and I dressed up and went out on the town. She always looked great on that night. I ended up going back to the condo early and didn't make it to midnight.

It is said that the first couple of months after a young widowed person loses a spouse he is in a state of shock and disbelief. The only thing is, he doesn't know it until he can look back and wonder, 'How did I ever make it?' And that is true in my experience. I am just now looking back at November and December and wondering how I got through it. When I got to the finish line of each day, it was a major accomplishment, and to a certain extent, it still is. There are times in which I feel a sense of purposelessness and drifting, and an ache that cannot be eased by anything or anyone.

But there is a place in which I feel an abiding sense of hope and peace. There is a place where I meet with God and with my brothers and sisters, and know that he is with me. And it is in that place where I can look back at the events of May through October and know that God was not absent, but very much present. It is in worship, with my spiritual family, in the house of God, where our common, everyday existence becomes a transcendent moment in time. It is where I can sing 'Lord, You never let go of me' and believe it, because there are hundreds around me who sing the same words, even when they, too, are faced with doubts and fear, possibly wondering themselves if that statement is really true, or if there is anything really true, but in the end, believing, because the Lord calls us to believe, and when he does, we can only believe.

I confess that, in the hours after Bianca died, I was ready to walk away from God, to no longer trust in Him, to take back all my prayers and tell him that we were through. I wondered whether what I believed about God - that he is a faithful, loving God who came to us in our helpless estate and saved us - what I had trusted in for the past two decades, was really true. Well, in worship, I remember. I remember what God has done, not only for me, but also for those with whom I worship, and for those who believe around the world, and who have ever believed, and those whose lives of faith and doubt are depicted in Scripture itself.

And I have the privelege not only to worship with my brothers and sisters, but to be entrusted to lead it. It is not always easy for me to worship or lead worship, and perhaps it should never be an "easy thing" to do, like watching TV or attending a concert. But it is always right and good to worship Him.

Below are lyrics to a song I wrote in November, inspired by an effort that women in my church put into creating wonderful albums from hundreds of photos that Amie kept in our home (thank you again). For about two hours I went through those photos with my friend Laura, who spearheaded the project, and I was particularly struck by how beautiful my wife was, and is. One day I hope to allow you to listen to the song, which I plan to record soon. If you want to know the answer to the question, 'how are you doing' read these lyrics and you will have your answer.

I continue to thank you for your prayers, your support, your notes and your loving friendship. Happy New Year.

Never Stop Loving You
Paul Vertucci

So many smiles
In so many photographs
Remind me of the way
That I would make you laugh
But all those bright colors
They are all bleeding into blue
Because I am missing you

I went through this house
With a fine tooth comb
Looking for signs of our life together
But I am still alone
And this once happy place
Now so quiet and subdued
Oh I’ve never stopped loving you
And I’ll never stop loving you

When I’m down on my knees
In the stillness of evening time
When there's nothing to distract me
And thoughts of you flood my mind
When I think of what could have been
What our love was meant to be
And how every dream is shattered
And you are but a memory

A body in agony
A heart filled with despair
You sought a resting place
With no pain or sorrow there
So much suffering
I could not undo
But I never stopped loving you
And I’ll never stop loving you

When I’m down on my knees
In the stillness of evening time
When there is nothing to distract me
And thoughts of you flood my mind
When I think of what could have been
What our love was meant to be
And how every dream is shattered
And you are but a memory

I hear the roar of the freight train passing by
A sound we’d grown accustomed to
As we would hold each other tight
But who knew that ghost train
Would carry you away so soon
And that would be the end of me and you

I consider all I have lost
As I lie here by myself
And if crying could make me a rich man
I would gain untold wealth
You told me to love again
And that is what I’ll do
But I’ll never stop loving you
I’ll never stop loving you

© 2008 Paul Vertucci