A few weeks after my first wife, Georgia, was called to heaven, I was cooking dinner for my son and myself. For a vegetable, I decided on frozen peas. As I was cutting open the bag, it slipped from my hands and crashed to the floor. The peas like marbles, rolled everywhere. I tried to use a broom but with each swipe the peas rolled across the kitchen, bounced off the wall on the other side and rolled in another direction.
My mental state at the time was fragile. Losing a spouse is an unbearable pain. I got on my hands and knees and pulled them into a pile to dispose of; I was half laughing and half crying as I collected them. I could see the humor in what happened, but it doesn’t take much for a person dealing with grief to break down.
For the next week, every time I was in the kitchen, I would find a pea that had escaped my first cleanup. In a corner, behind a table leg, in the frays at the end of a mat, or hidden under a heater, they kept turning up. Eight months later I pulled out the refrigerator to clean and found a dozen or so petrified peas hidden underneath.
At the time I found those few remaining peas, I was in a new relationship with a wonderful woman I met in a widow/widower support group. After we married, I was reminded of those peas under the refrigerator. I realized my life had been like that bag of frozen peas. It had shattered. My wife was gone. I was in a new city with a busy job and a son having trouble adjusting to his new surroundings and the loss of his mother. I was a wreck. I was just like that bag of spilled, frozen peas. My life had come apart and scattered.
When life gets us down; when everything we know comes apart; when we think we can never get through the tough times, remember, it is just like that bag of scattered, frozen peas. The peas can be collected and life can be put back together. We will find all the peas. First the easy peas come together in a pile. We pick them up and start to move on. Later we will find the harder peas. When we pull it all together, life will be whole again.
The life we know can be scattered at any time. We will move on, but how fast we collect our peas depends on each of us. Will we keep scattering them around by trying to pick them up all at once or will we pick them up one-by-one and put our life back together, one piece at a time?
Author - Michael T. Smith