After tolerating no audio from my desktop monitor for years, I decided to finally ask my built-in tech advisor, ChatGPT, to help me figure out why that wasn’t working.
My solution for months was to unplug the monitor cord from the laptop, open the laptop, play whatever reel needed sound and then plug the monitor cord back in.
But after so many months of that malarkey, it was time to address it!
Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find the fix, and even though there was a test button to assure the sound was coming through (it was), I decided to go to YouTube to find a music video to make sure it was working there.
Pretty ordinary day in the office, right?
Until it wasn’t.
The music video that showed up at the top of the list was one I’ve listened to a few times in the past, but not recently so it caught me off-guard when I noticed it.
It was the closing song from the movie, “A Star Is Born,” featuring Lady Gaga. The song title was, “I’ll Never Love Again.”
A few comments before I continue. This post may not resonate with everyone. And it’s very likely I’ll receive some judgment for my story, even if not publicly.
I’m speaking to:
- Anyone who is still deeply grieving the loss of a loved one, even many years since their death.
- Anyone who hasn’t experienced that kind of loss, but has a heart to understand and a desire to come alongside those who are still hurting.
If you haven’t walked in shoes similar to mine, and wonder why after almost nine years, I am still grieving the loss of Dale, then you may want to move past this. Or hang with me and see if anything I say gives you a new perspective.
I know this post makes me incredibly vulnerable. But I signed on for that when God called me to this ministry, and I share my deepest thoughts through this blog.
Back to Lady Gaga’s song. Even though I knew this song was always a gut punch, I still found myself clicking on it – and not just because I wanted to make sure my audio was working. Somehow, I’m still drawn to these words. Nearly every word in this song is the cry of my heart for Dale. Nine years without him hasn’t changed that.
So rather than trying to summarize the lyrics, I’m going to ask you to take four-and-a-half minutes and listen to the song. Pay particular attention to the chorus and the bridge. Those words come remarkably close to expressing what remains in my heart for Dale.
I’ll Never Love Again Video (you can stop at about 4:13 to shorten the viewing)
Now my thoughts on this:
Despite the time that has passed, and the fact that I’ve listened to this song multiple times, I found myself, not just tearing up, but full-on crying through the whole video and for at least 10 minutes after it stopped. That is how deep my loss and my pain still are.
We just passed the 25th anniversary of 9/11, and if you saw any of the coverage, you saw people still openly sobbing and grieving for those they had lost. Not one year. Not five years. Not nine years. 25 years. That speaks volumes.
To address the title and the phrase repeated many times, “I’ll Never Love Again.” Yes, I do know that God could bring someone into my life and if he chose to do that, I would have to listen. However, in nearly nine years, I’ve had zero desire for any other man in my life. I make no apologies for that. I know I’m far from alone.
What God has given me for this season of my life, with this ministry to those who are hurting, is infinitely satisfying. I’m grateful beyond words for the purpose, and yes even joy, that I feel for all that God has brought into my life during the eight years of this ministry. For now, it is more than enough.
There is much joy in my life. So, this post isn’t about negating all of that. It’s about acknowledging the fact that great sorrow and great joy can be carried at the same time.
The deep pain still lies within me. The deep love that led to that deep pain also still lives within me. Its outlet now, however, is grief.
Grief is not the opposite of healing. Grief is what enduring love sometimes looks like when the person we love is gone.
And now a final word about the timing of this post. While this audio recovery story happened weeks ago, I had those storm posts to write about so this topic sat on the shelf for a while.
As I write this, I’m about a day away from what would have been our 40th wedding anniversary. A day that is always the hardest of the entire year, and this one especially poignant. Coincidence? Hardly.
So, on Friday, I made a special trip to Costco to pick up the beautiful roses you see in the picture. Yes, I’m worth it, but more importantly, my marriage to Dale was worth it.
If you’ve stayed with me through this post, thank you! If it gave you a new perspective, or a new appreciation for what deep grieving continues to look like, or (hopefully), if you started to understand the concept of the reality of joy and sorrow still taking up space in the same heart, then I’m grateful.
I’m a different person since Dale died. A woman God continues to refine through the fire of loss, but who sees his hand on her life in more ways than she could have ever imagined.
Set me as a seal upon your heart,
as a seal upon your arm,
for love is strong as death,
jealousy is fierce as the grave.
Its flashes are flashes of fire,
the very flame of the LORD.
Many waters cannot quench love,
neither can floods drown it.
Song of Solomon 8:6-7
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