My sister got married 3 weeks ago. The wedding was to be held 1200km away and given that I have 3 kids driving the distance was the only option. I was terrified. Weeks I planned and worried and layed awake. I don't like driving and have never driven more than 200km on my own before. That was Jouke's job. He liked it and was good at it. That is just the way it worked.
I didn't know how the kids would handle the trip and how I was going to stay focused on the road and make sure they were OK.
I was terrified of the wedding, too. Terrified of taking that one photo that I didn't want to take. Terrified of seeing the start of a marriage when mine has just ended. Of remembering the days leading up to my own wedding. Terrified of the first time all the family would be together since the funeral. Turns out I had reason to be scared as it was a really hard day. I will tell more about that later.
Other things scared me too. Packing the car, planning the route, staying in motels, the list goes on.
But what scared me most by far was the nearly 24 hours that I had to stare at the road. It is the time when the images of Jouke's passing fill the lens of my minds eye and I have to fight hard just to see through them, to see the road. I am left defenseless and unable to turn them off or to turn the sound down. Scenes I would rather forget (like the police at my house) play slowly, clearly and loudly and at times I cannot see the road.
A dear friend prayed specifically for God to take these way. He answered. Mostly I was focused and my mind relatively quiet. Traveling was hard work. The entire trip was hard work. But God was faithful. He kept us safe, he kept me sane. He showed me his strength in my weakness and taught me that I am capable of far more than I imagined.
I am proud of me and the kids. Proud that even when it is hard, when we felt like quitting we pushed on. I hope that Jouke would be too.