Finding my comfort in God, giving it ALL to him because I’ve got nothing else to go off of. Nates words were often Gods words, he led his family in a way that he knew he should, but being gentle and kind along the way. Yesterday our pastor talked about having faith, and having faith in something. He used a stool as an example. We have faith that the stool will hold us, but when we put our whole weight on the stool, that is us putting our faith in it. I’ve always had faith, always known there was something bigger, a bigger purpose, but Nate taught me exactly what that mean. He led me to God, gently and kindly by praying for me from day one, by guiding me and encouraging me that I didn’t have to be perfect or know it all to know Him and embrace the fact that I AM a child of God. Nate gave me a lot of amazing gifts, but right now I am most thankful for this one because it is literally the only thing right now that can offer my children and I any kind of peace, and that is because of Nate, all of this is because of Nate Helmuth, I am eternally grateful to you my love for your heart, your love, and our eternity.
In the first few days after losing Nate, I didn’t sleep at all, I barely remembered to eat, or shower. I just sat, I didn’t know what to do. I had friends helping me complete the most basic tasks. I simply couldn’t function. I still don’t know how I will ever live without him, but in those first days, I really didn’t know if I could even try. I guess I’ve gotten stronger. By Tuesday of that week I was so exhausted, I thought I’d attempt to rest. I woke up sobbing in the middle of the night, 3:11 to be exact. I couldn’t go back to sleep so I made coffee, I didn’t know what else to do. I crumbled onto my kitchen floor and I cried, and cried, I screamed, I cried some more. Im surprised I didn’t wake anyone else who was staying in the house. The days continued to be a blur, and I continued to try to sleep. Wednesday night I woke again at 3:11, I screamed at Nate, “Why did you do this to me, what do you want me to do, I’m tired, I can’t do this, what would you say to me if you were here, please help me,” and in a moment of quiet that followed, I felt like I knew exactly what to do, like he told me exactly what to do. I walked to his side table by his bed where I knew he kept his bible, and I pulled one out. It was his Soldiers Bible, presented to him November 2004 by his Mom and Dad upon leaving for basic training, the same one he continued to use through his time in the army, and his deployment to Iraq. I opened it, and looked down to see Ecclesiastes, I brought my eyes to 3:11, it had to mean something right?!
I sobbed when I read it, Nate was, and is still very much here, and this is what he told me.
11 He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.
For 3 nights following I awoke between 3:11 and 3:14, and that is when I called out to God, I called out to. Nate, I asked them what I was supposed to do, I looked for answers on big decisions, it was my most clearheaded time in those first days.
I continued to read the verses that followed 3:11
Nate, I know you are here, all around me, just not in physical form, I know you have your arms wrapped around me, and I can still come to you with everything just like before. I love you so much and I know these are the words that you would say.
It still doesn’t feel real when I say it, “My husband passed away on January 6th,” “We lost my husband 19 days ago,” “My husband passed away.” I have to say it over and over and over, it gets old, all the questions, the looks of sadness, the awkward staring, it feels fake, like a dream, or a nightmare rather that I’ll never wake up from. I am so guilty of using the word Die, Dying, Dead, in my vocabulary all the time, if a friend doesn’t respond to a text, I’d ask them did they die, if I almost fell, I’d say, ” I almost died,” if someone else almost fell, I’d say, “Don’t die.” But using the word now makes me want to throw up, using terms like passed away, put to rest, etc. are easy, sugar coated versions of the truth. He died, he’s dead, he’s not coming back and there is no sugar coating that. Its raw, real life, and it hurts, it makes me want to throw up, or pass out, or both. That first night was the worst, I wanted to stay with him at the hospital forever, and if I knew how long it would take for them to actually take him from the hospital I would have stayed. I imagine eventually they would have to ask me to leave, but if I didn’t leave him it wasn’t real, right?? They gave me his wedding ring, I put it on my right ring finger, I lied on his chest, just like I would in our own bed, I held his hand, ran my fingers through his hair and his beard, I kissed his head. It felt like a sick joke, just waiting for Ashton Kutcher to jump out and surprise me in an old school ” Punked” episode. This couldn’t be happening to us, we had already been through so much, we were on the other side. It was all a haze, I stayed as long as I could, and I walked out of the hospital without my husband, and it wasn’t just for a little while, it was forever. It was just like in a movie, you could hear a pin drop in that hallway, everyone stared at me as I passed, and every step I took became more paralyzing, I wasn’t sure I would even make it down that hall. I did though, I walked out of the hospital and into a world of unknowns, a world where the very breath I breathe, my life, my world, was taken from me in an instant. I don’t know if or how ill get through this, but I have to now, for my babies, for Nate.