My new status as a widow is an adjustment. I have no more need to hide the salt shaker or avoid buying sweets as a temptation for my husband. It wouldn’t hurt me to cut back on either of these, but it’s not an all-out requirement for my health like it was for him.
I can get rid of my coffee maker, since the caffeine drinker is gone. Same for the orange juice which makes me break out or the milk to which I’m allergic. My whole grocery list will be reduced in items as well as amounts. I guess that Costco with its jumbo proportions will only serve as a faint memory. I’ll have to freeze quart bags of a casserole so I don’t grow weary of eating the same thing.
“Hey, Honey, guess who I saw when I was out shopping,” I call to him, entering his bedroom. He isn’t there. Oh yeah, he’s gone.
I no longer hear him talking on the phone or conversing with his nurse who watched possible weight gains. For all the times I wished it could be true, I will never again hear him telling his oft-repeated jokes. When the answering machine comes on our phone, I jump in surprise to hear that sweet voice again.
I’ve heard that there are no marriages in Heaven, but I feel quite sure that my mate will continue to act as a social buffer for me when I arrive there. He will introduce me to all the friends he’s made. He’ll no doubt go into his routine about our marriage.
“There’s only two reasons why we were married so long. One is the Lord, and the second is that I married a saint.”
It always embarrassed me when he said this, but now I’d love to hear it again. He made me sound much better than I was.
When we moved to a condo, it gave him great satisfaction to know that he had taken care of me, in case he didn’t make it. His smile of satisfaction lit up when I told him that I felt safe after a night alone during his hospital stay.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not drowning in sorrow. I am sad, but know that, as he often told his doctors, “Doc, don’t fret if you lose me on the table. I know where I’m going, and I’m ready to go.” He was perfectly fine with “going home” at this point in his life.
I’m pretty excited to think about my husband being surrounded by all those family members and friends who went on before him. Even the relatives he’d been studying from Ancestry.com he’s now becoming acquainted with first hand.
Most of all, I’m treasuring the thought that he’s meeting Jesus in person, and feeling His loving welcome for him. All of the pain and struggles he experienced down here on earth are a thing of the past. He won’t have any more trouble with spelling or figuring out our finances, no more angst about world crises or political upheavals. He is free of all those worldly concerns, being who he was always meant to be in a perfect environment.
In the meantime, I’m learning how to be a widow and without him. But it doesn’t mean that I’m alone. Besides family and friends, I have the Lord as my constant companion who is walking by my side and guiding me with my new role in life in my widow status.
Dianna
Sharing the Fruit of Maturity
