My wife had only been home a few days following a six month long stay in the hospital and rehab as a result of an unprecedented medical journey that started with a ruptured frontal lobe aneurysm. Little of her true personality remained, but on the eve of Easter, a spark of her true nature surfaced. She wanted to give Easter baskets to our little grandchildren.
My mother loved deeply, and she demonstrated her love through her sacrificial service for others. Her love was not just spoken. She proved it over and over again by her actions.
When my wife passed, my blogs were all in her honor. Writing was therapeutic, but I also wanted readers to know how special she was. During her many months in the hospital, she received cards and even a couple of notebooks filled with comments from those who knew her and wanted to honor her. So we have created a way for you to honor a loved one past, present, or future. Post your comments below.
Today is Sunday, July 2, 2017. Five hours ago, while in Bible Study, our teacher read about the Baka Valley, the Valley of Tears. I know that valley well. In fact, I was holding back the tears at the end of class. So instead of staying for the worship service I went to the cemetery. I needed to have a talk with my wife. Yes, I have become like those you see in the movies who sit talking to their loved one.
As I begin this blog, I do so with a bit of sadness because I have come to the end of the “Love is” series, which has been therapeutic. If you are interested in reading some of the blogs I wrote during my wife’s seven-month long battle for survival you can go to the Elder Source Blog page.
I found the little book on her beside table while she was at National Health Care for several weeks of rehab. Someone from my wife’s school must have stopped by and left it as an encouragement. I had the room to myself for a few minutes so I opened the little journal and began to read the handwritten notes on the once empty pages.
Five weeks ago today I received a 6:52AM call from my wife’s neurosurgeon telling me my sweetheart was gone. Her seven-month long battle for survival was over, but my world crashed and is still smoldering. Two words came to mind that morning, but I have waited until now to put “Love Is” into the blogosphere.
My wife loved that I loved her. She loved our simple date nights, our romantic get-a-ways, and the occasional bouquets of flowers at the end of a long day at school or for no reason at all. Every day ended with us sitting on the sofa next to each other holding hands, and once in bed we would fall asleep snuggling.
God, You and I have talked a lot during the last seven months of my bride’s life. Many times I thought she wasn’t going to survive. Many times it hurt so much to see her suffering that I prayed over and over again, asking you to heal her. As if you needed my permission, I even left the definition of healing up to you, knowing that you might choose to ultimately heal her and take her to be with you. Ten days ago you did just that.
Life can be like a game of checkers. I haven’t played checkers in many, many years, but I remember well a few I played decades ago. My maternal grandfather had a farm in western Kentucky. Although he never learned to read or write, he had one of the best business minds I have ever known. I often find myself reflecting on the lessons learned from his example.
I am reminded of the well known line Clint Eastwood spoke in the Dirty Harry movies, “Are you feeling lucky today, punk?” Lucky is not in my normal vocabulary. Honestly, I can’t remember how long it has been since I have even used the word. I accept that some people appear to be lucky, but I have never considered myself to be a member of that elite club.