9th Anniversary of Rob's death

Remembering Rob Wallace….

Today, March 12, 2021 marks the 9th anniversary of my late husband’s suicidal death.  The grief is no longer a bottomless pit of pain. Although, there remains a dull ache that echoes in the holes of my heart, once filled by the love of my husband.  The loss remains. 

Did you know that Rob’s favorite place in the whole world, was Uganda? He loved Uganda!  The people, the country, the rain. He loved to play his soprano sax in churches that I ministered in as he ushered in the presence of god. He especially loved the melodic haunting dirges his saxophone made when he played in the rain. Rob would intentionally choose to join me on the “country club” portions (electricity and hot water on demand, porcelain flushing toilets, hotels, expat homes and good food) of my ministry trips to Africa. He didn’t like roughing it… He always left going “up country” or “in the bush” part of my trips for me, alone. 

One of Rob’s greatest desires was to purchase some property and build a home, so that we could retire here in Uganda. He didn’t get to see that desire fulfilled. Somehow, he believed the lie that the anxiety, depression and the emotional pain he experienced, would never go away… He answered yes to the dark seduction of suicide, which stole his hopes and dreams. This pains my heart.

I was remembering, in my mind’s eye, what Rob looked like. His soft eyes, his slightly twisted smile and the little wrinkles around his ears from maintaining his embouchure playing the saxophone. I then tried to hear his voice… the way he called my name when he felt endearing towards me or the way he laughed at his own jokes… Tears welled up in my eyes at the realization, I couldn’t recall what his voice sounded like. I felt a sadness and almost a sense of guilt because I couldn’t hear Rob’s voice in my memories. How could this be?

I am reminded that grief is the loss and mourning is the remembering.  If mourning is the remembering… will I forever mourn?

“Winter” in Uganda

Winds laced with Sahara sand

cloaking the morning sunrise

stealing glorious colors 

normally stretched across the horizon

Instead, a breath like fog

leaves behind 

delusions of rain

shrouding Lake Victoria’s 

picturesque view

with this sense 

of ominous change

© Kimberly Anne Wallace 2021

Morning has Broken

Waking to sounds 

of distant rolling thunder

Smelling pummeling rain 

Cleansing fog like winds 

of sahara dust 

from hills and valleys

leaving sighs 

of green freshness

and pungent red earth…

Oh how I have missed 

Ugandan mornings

© Kimberly Anne Wallace 2021

Sometimes when it rains

My heart aches today from missing my beloved husband, Rob.

Sometimes when it rained, we would snuggle in bed, his arms firmly wrapped around me, I felt so loved and safe... Other times we would sit in our music room, listening to the rain and he would serenade me on his soprano sax just for me...just for ME! He rocked my world when he played for me... He was a Holy Ghost Kenny G sax player...

In the gentle sound of the rain, I am missing you so very much Rob...

3rd Anniversary of my husband's suicide...

I have been working on my book, "Indescribable" (journey of a survivor of suicide). Last night I needed some content and specific details for this one chapter that I'm working on - and so, I watched Rob's Memorial... What was I thinking?!! Tomorrow, Saturday, is the day he committed suicide and March 10th is the date... I must have been momentarily out of my mind... Needless to say, I was unable to take any notes because I could do nothing but sob.

Thank you again Pastor Francis and Suzie for so steadfastly standing with me emotionally and spiritually at this time in my life... 

And a huge THANK YOU (I can never repay you enough for your love, hugs, laughter and tears) to my faithful FRIENDS... You know who you are! If you know me well, you know that I do not have a plethora of friends... Grief and mourning kind of changes your social life... Especially when you're not the least bit sanguine and extremely serious and deeply intense to start with!!!

I am not complaining about the loss of friendships since Rob's suicide. I'm being painfully aware and transparent about the fact that I don't have the emotional energy to invest in relationships. The friendships that I have been blessed with, are because of the outreach of others towards me. I so greatly appreciate those of you who have reached out towards me and loved me well in the midst of my grief and mourning. I don't deserve your love. You have modeled Jesus Christ's unconditional extravagant love towards me.

All that said, I am reaching out to each and everyone of you and asking for your prayers and love to cover me tomorrow and on March 10th as I attempt, sometimes tearfully, to remember Rob well. His choice of suicide does not define who he was or the legacy he left behind.

I do not apologize for my tears. Instead I recognize the grace you walk towards me in, when you see me cry and you don't tell me "It's going to be OK" or you don't ask me to "stop crying"... You have been Jesus Christ incarnate for me, on this catastrophic traumatic journey of being a survivor of suicide.

Utterly Alone

After two and a half years, being a widow has not gotten easier... I have been experiencing extremely dark moments when I feel utterly ALONE... but then I remember these feelings come solely from the enemy.

My life continues to be redefined by the consequences of my husband Rob's choices and his suicide... I choose not to respond hastily to my circumstances, but to act patiently in my relationship with my heavenly Father waiting on His wisdom to direct my steps.

The waiting is hard...

In Christ Alone!

I know that seemingly I've been on an even kilter for what seems a fair amount of time now. Yet, a few weeks ago, while attempting to lead a prayer set at the Rock House of Prayer, stirring yet again began.

I got up to pray, and all I could do was cry. Though I didn't hear Jurgen's guitar and voice harmonized with Debbie's singing or Rob's saxophone playing; the memories of coming every Wednesday to early morning prayer with my husband for 3 years or even more, came flooding in. This was the first time since my husband's suicide that I came to RHOP. I had stayed away all this time. I could only make garbled proclamations in between my tears of mourning. I REMEMBERED. I remembered the grogginess of 5:30 a.m. kissing our throats as we prayed and sang. Our ears and heart were tempered by the leading of the Holy Spirit in melodic songs that deeply touched the spirit.

I cried because I wanted to be what we were. I wanted Rob back here, on earth and in my life. The Lord gently reminded me this was not a possible choice. Grief is the loss and mourning is the remembering. How do I mourn Rob gracefully? I don't think that I can. I have grieved very ungracefully with rivers of tears and snot offerings at the altar.  The memories are sometimes wondrous and amazing. I worry that I won't remember the essence of Rob, the goodness of who he was in his right mind in Christ. I have to stop and dig very hard for those memories and yet other times the memories over take me like the flow of many rushing waters.

I have been quietly processing great contemplative questions my Pastor adjured me to consider. His words did not fall on deaf ears, his love was felt in my spirit. I am reminded, God rebukes those He loves. In this time of redefinition I have allowed insecurity to weave itself into my life. This is a new experience for me in these last 22 years of my life. Who I am has changed drastically through my husband's suicide. I have been divorced and know the pain of divorce. The hidden rejection in it. In surviving suicide as a spouse, there is a feeling of blatant silent rejection that you can never address. I have felt the most rejected in this experience, even more rejected then being given up for adoption. There are so many unanswered questions. Too many, in fact. And they play with your mind. Especially security.

In my husband's suicide, I not only lost my husband, but lost all financial security with much debt that I have been working my way to pay off.  Many of my relationships have changed through this journey of surviving suicide. Many that I thought were solid life long friends, don't call or can hardly bare to spend time with me or look me in the eyes. I own my part in that I have not taken the energy or time to call or reinvest in relationships. When it is all said and done, there is no energy left when you are a survivor of suicide. You must be intentional with maintaining relationships, even if others aren't. I had begun to think that I had nothing to share and that I was worthless and so I desperately rode in on other's coat tails looking for affirmation and acceptance I so desperately needed, but could not ask for. This doesn't work.

I need to be honest with myself and remove the subtle mantel of delusion camouflaged as emotional stability. I am a weak, fragile and broken person. I need affirmation and acceptance. Please forgive me for trying to find my desolate needs met in people instead of you, Lord. Thank you God, that I can receive all that I need in my identity from you. In Christ alone!

Excerpt from "Indescribable" the book! by Kimberly Wallace

Today is a new day!

Today is a new day. I have to remind myself to stop "shoulding" on myself... I catch myself thinking I "should" be further along in the mourning process of my husband's suicide and death. I "should" not feel relieved that I'm no longer walking on emotional egg shells. I "should" no longer be crying. I "should" not cry in public. I "should" not feel guilty for enjoying life. I "should", I "should", I "should"...  Instead I MUST thank God and praise God and glorify Him in this process of tears of mourning. I must give myself permission to celebrate my life as it is, not filled with "shoulds", but my life as it is, and not look back at the past. I intentionally and purposely choose to live in the now, with my hope in Jesus and all my tomorrows!!!

Yesterday was such a difficult day for me emotionally with mourning my husband's death. Saturday's have been soooo hard for me to bare... That was THE day I found Rob hanging by his neck on the side of my house. It never ceases to amaze me that sometimes something as simple as the flash of a car, the sound of a song, hearing a saxophone play, the smell of Cinnabon and coffee, can remind me of my husband and send me spinning sideways into tears that don't easily stop. But God!!! His goodness His glory and His delight He finds in me. My joy and my delight can only be found in Him!!!

For those of you both close to me and not so close to me, THANK YOU for allowing my tears and NOT telling me to stop crying and giving me permission to feel the pain in your hugs, your silent but meaningful looks, your sometimes hesitant smiles, and yes, even YOUR tears. I know that I am not the only survivor of Rob's suicide. I have the greatest hope that God's glory will somehow prevail through my life and love of Jesus.

Yes today is a new day! I'm finding therapy (as usual) in cooking Indian butter chicken and Tuscan tri tip for the party tomorrow for Cor and Grace Koelewijn! Cooking is my passion, Jesus is my life!