God’s presence in the dance of joy and sorrow

by Camille Ramdial-Cumberbatch

As I sit in my living room folding clothes by myself, looking at the television show and commenting about it, to myself, my reality of being a widow resurfaces. March 14 made it two years since my husband’s passing and I was alone without him next to me.

In the past two years, my journey entailed increased self-reflection and awareness, deepening faith and trust in the Lord, strengthening of core relationships, achievement and establishment of goals and intentions. In all these experiences, just as God always is, Mike was present in his own way.

I heard his voice remind me of his words of wisdom when I was confused or uncertain. I felt his touch when awakening from dreaming about him. I affirmed his love when engaging with our son. His presence was always felt in various situations, which was both comforting and painful sometimes.

One memory stands out about the unexpectedness of when my grief surged. I started dance classes last year, as one of the ways to help me on my journey and I was always joyful in sessions. One day, in the middle of dance practice with my instructor, based on the song he had chosen, I burst into tears as it was a song that I associated with Mike. Thankfully my friend Myrna was present and comforted me. My poor instructor became concerned, so I explained to him that my memory and Mike’s passing were the reasons for my emotional response. That incident exemplifies the suddenness of grief, and how it can override your emotional state at any time. If you are not centred by God’s presence in your life, it is very easy to spiral, emotionally.

For his 2^nd anniversary last week, I was busy on the day engaging with women at an empowerment seminar for International Women’s Day. I felt happy and knew he would be proud that I was living his philosophy of being relevant, having impact and building community.  I felt I was managing myself well, until two days later. After having breakfast at our favourite restaurant, I was about to leave when one of the attendants asked me how I was doing. A simple enquiry opened the floodgate of tears, releasing emotions I was suppressing.

The Holy Spirit led me to go to my parish church, Our Lady of Perpetual Help in San Fernando for prayer and comfort. My obedience was rewarded.  A Mass was being held for the students of San Fernando Boys RC School, and I was able to listen to the readings and homily by Fr Matthew.   The Responsorial Psalm’s reading, Psalm 46 2-3, “God is our refuge and our strength, an ever-present help in distress,” was exactly what I needed to hear, as a reminder of God’s presence and role in my life. Hearing the children’s voices and seeing the little ones happily experience the Mass, also lightened my spirit and made me smile. God knew I needed to reclaim my joie de vivre through His Word and little children. I left feeling centred by His peace in my heart.

Missing Mike and feeling lonely or uncertain at times are a natural part of my life now.  This is coupled with also feeling loved, supported and blessed. Blessed by God’s love which has helped me be strong in my transition. His love has deepened my faith and trust in Him, to move forward into my future.

As I told our son, Joshua last week, just as how God is with us, Mike is in us. We live his legacy by our words, choices and actions. So, although he is not present physically, he is always with us. I know he would want us to not only, “Choose to be happy,” as he counselled Joshua, but also choose to dance on this journey of life, as the song ‘I Hope You Dance’  by Lee Ann Womack, which was read at his funeral, encourages us to do.

“I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean

Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens

Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance”