In my dream I awoke knowing I was in the midst of a stroke. I couldn’t talk or get up, but I could use my phone to text. Later, the ER doctor confirmed I was having a severe stroke and asked about a Living Will. I was given a tablet and pen and wrote, “DNR.” Then the dream ended. My dreams are often meaningful even if they don’t make complete sense.
My living conditions changed dramatically after Sue and I married. I had been living in a mobile home off campus while in grad school. Used red and yellow shag carpet covered the vinyl flooring. I didn’t own a vacuum cleaner or an iron. There were no curtains, and the “entertainment center” upon which my 13 inch black and white television sat was a cardboard box containing a table saw I bought at Sears. Sue wanted something more "chic" than my man pad. I can’t imagine why. (Just kidding)
We chose a simple one-bedroom apartment with white walls and beige carpeting. Sue chose a navy blue and floral sofa and chair. The living room curtains were lacy white sheers. Floral bedroom curtains matched the floral bedspread. Our apartment definitely was feminine, but it did look much better than my mobile home.
Although I loved her and her feminine touch, I wasn’t crazy about wearing a ring. I knew a guy who lost his ring finger when his ring got caught, but I adjusted to wearing my ring because it was very important to her. Sue has been gone for a little over ten months, but I still wear the ring, and I have one of Sue’s rings that I wear around my neck on a black string necklace that was hers as well. Isn’t it funny how time changes our perspectives?
Our house looks like it did ten months ago, and her clothes still hang in our closet. I really treasure the many memories I have of her and of our almost 35 years together. This morning I realized something. I am still very much in love with her. The ring on the third finger of my left hand is there because in my heart she is still my wife. Her death broke the legal contract, but my heart says she is still my wife.
I have often said that men view life as black and white, but women add color to our lives.
I could shout the following from the rooftops. “Husbands love your wives. Cherish them. PurSue them. Love them the way they need to be loved, not as you want to be loved.”
Sue loved me and cherished our time together. I guess somewhere between the shag carpeting, rings, and frilly things, I managed to love her well.
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Note: I found the following on my laptop, written months ago. My prayer is that the words from this unskilled writer will cause us to think and move us to action. For those of you who may not know my story, a series of difficulties and complications following a ruptured frontal lobe aneurism on September 25, 2016, ended when God called my wife Home on May 6, 2017. Thank you for reading and sharing.
One year ago today, Sunday 9/25/16, my world changed when my wife, Sue, suffered a ruptured frontal lobe aneurysm. She died twenty weeks ago yesterday. In the past few months I have tried to refrain from making any decisions I don’t have to make, but yesterday I managed to go through one kitchen cabinet.
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.