Author: Lisa Black

I wonder

I wonder, I wonder how much longer people with have compassion for me. I wonder how many days I have until I go from “that poor distraught grieving mother” to “good, Lord Woman, get a grip, and get over it already”. Truth is, no matter what I do…someone is gonna judge it … I learned that as a young widow, I was either “cold” for making plans for the future, or “weak” for not getting over John Hunt quick enough.. It’s been 18 years, and I am still not “over John”. Every Thanksgiving week…at some point, I lose it…years ago I became incapacitated with the brutal memories of November 25, 1995. Now, I just drive my car, pull over somewhere…release the toxins, then reapply the make-up and drive home.  Home to my husband of 13 years, the man I adore, and am deeply in love with …and the man that is secure enough to know, that I still weep for the husband of my youth. He not only lets me grieve, he helps me grieve. He releases me into my pain, knowing that the pain of my past is what makes me the woman I am today. He knows that I truly weep with widows, because, I will always be a widow. That compassion is why I can look in the eyes of the abandoned, the lonely, the devastated…and feel their pain. This truth is...

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The perfect little blog….that I will never write.

Since the first rummblings that something was wrong hit our cell phones at 1:30 am on April 17th, I have longed to touch my son. For hours we did nto know if he was hurt, or infact gone. I ran up and down the stairs, throwing suitcases in the truck, and then franticially checked flights from Denver to St. Louis.  My baby was hurt, and I had to get to him as fast as I could.  When a policeman finally answered our question hours later, I crumpled into a ball on the floor. A stranger was telling us our son was dead, there was no hurry to get to him, there was nothing I could do. I still wanted to get to Michael, I still wanted to touch my boy.  I knew the best thing was for Gary to get to Tyler as soon as possible and his flight was booked immediately. Back and forth in grief and confusion we went.  We did not want to be separated from each other, we couldn’t drag Noah, Caleb, Alexis and Emily through the trauma that awaited us in St. Louis.  We also could not leave them home without their parents at a time like this.  We both knew the next 48 hours were going to be beyond brutal no matter what we did. At the same time we could not imagine...

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A Letter to my daughters

Alexis and Emily,                                                                                                                                                                                                            May 1, 2013 When people tell me they have no regrets, I believe they are either lying, or in denial. I have many regrets, things I wish I had done differently, wisdom I wish I possessed. You were so little when your daddy died, just shy of 3 and 5 years old.  I will never forget those early days of grief.  I was in shock for well over a year, and I wore both of our wedding rings every day.  I used to put you in your car seats and just drive, that way all you could see was the back of my head and not the tears soaking the front of my shirt.  I could not wait to tuck you in every night, because...

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the kind and the cruel

I recently reposted a blog I had written for Michaels 16th birthday. The point was a pivotal moment in the building of our relationship as Step-mother and Step-son.   A few people responded implying that I had caused long term emotional damage to not only Micael, but to all my children. This verbal attack coming on the heels of 12 days of cards, flowers, unending prayer, love, and support of thousands of friends. And a few strangers.   I would never say for a second that I have been a perfect mother.  In fact, I am the first one...

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It does not matter how you got here…

Hello everybody! It has been way to long. I believe I am suppose to start blogging again, but, on very specific topics. So, I will have two blog posts, this one, and, for blended family issues, those that have gone thru being widowed, divorced, etc, I have started another one as well…   Please visit http://hope4blendedfamilies.wordpress.com here is a little of what the Lord has put on my heart. It does not matter how you got here… If you would have told me THIS would have been my life, when I was a young bride… I would have never believed you.  I had it all figured out at 19, if you live your life the right way, you will have exactly what you want, and exactly what you plan to have.  For almost 7 years my life did go perfectly according to plan.  Perfect, faithful, loving husband… check, two healthy beautiful little girls… check, sales-job I loved… check, ministry I was passionate about…. check. Two o’clock in the morning on November 25th 1995… it all came crashing down with a violent knock on my front door.  A uniformed policeman delivered the life changing words; my husband John had been in an accident and was dead.  Our baby girls, two and four years of age, were sleeping down the hall unaware that their world, their family would never be the same.  I knew we would...

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