To start I have to thank you all for your incredible love and support. Your prayers are bearing me up and making each day bearable for me. Right now as we prepare for Hubby-head's memorial service and deal with the day to day aftermath of his passing, there is much to do to keep me busy and I've not let my inner muse run free to spill across these pages. Rest assured that I'll be back blogging much, much more in the days and weeks to come... and I know it's been months, even years since I've had much to say so I must thank those of you who still come back now and then to check on me. RSS feeders help, I'm sure... heh.
What's been on my mind these last few days, even in the midst of the chaos of the weekend, was thankfulness... because even though our time together was cut short, we lived every day with an eye toward having no regrets.
No regrets meant that every day we made a point of saying "I love you" - several times a day. While I was working full time, we'd e-mail one another from time to time for inconsequential silly reasons, but always with hugs and kisses. When I was home, we'd stay in touch via instant messenger, frequently just sending a kiss or a few hearts, but enough to let me know I was on his mind, or vice versa. No regrets... I always knew he loved me.
No regrets meant that every time we spoke on the phone, we never, ever hung up without saying goodbye. We'd both considered how horrible it would be if one of us had a fatal car accident on the way home from wherever, and our last conversation was cut short because of anger or irritation. One time I remember specifically that I was driving home and my cell phone cut off near the tail end of our conversation, and even though I was only a few blocks away I called him back, because I didn't want him to think I'd hung up on him. No regrets, because last words leave a lingering memory.
No regrets meant that every time one of us left the house, even just to run to the store, we'd say goodbye in our own special way - one that you folks don't reallllllly want to know too much about, but suffice it to say it was silly and sweet and always ended with "I love you soooo much". I did it once more at the hospital, after they'd disconnected all the tubes and the wires and cleaned him up for me. No regrets, because even silly rituals can have deep and heartfelt meaning behind them.
No regrets... In the emergency room, when he was distracted and distressed, his friend from work urged me to talk to him, make small talk about anything and everything to keep his mind off the pain. I couldn't think of a thing to say when he was hurting and I was so very scared, except to tell him over and over that I loved him. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else came to mind. I wanted no regrets. The last words I said to him when he was able to hear and comprehend were words of love, not of trivialities and nonsense.
No regrets... I know he loved me. Every single day, I knew it. And I know he died knowing how much I loved him.
No regrets meant we never argued without resolution. Well, we really never argued - it was mostly cases where we were both frustrated about the same thing, and he'd get stressed and lose his cool for a few minutes. Seeing him upset usually made me cry, and seeing me cry would bring him back to his center. He hated - absolutely hated - to see me cry, especially if it was because of him. If he's watching me now from heaven, he's got to be kicking himself for not thinking it through before he accepted the invitation to go hang out with God in person. Oh yeah, sweetie, this time you've gone and done it.
No regrets - ok, I take that back. I do have one regret.
I regret that we don't have another 50 years of no regrets.
Tears flowed and blow by blow I brought the hammer down.
She glowed bright and moldable.
Each strike she felt.
And it changed her.
I cried as I worked, because she cried.
But I worked.
And blow by blow My hammer fell.
Yes, my hammer in My right hand.
And she in My left, My thing of beauty, My work of art, My song, My shiny sword of choice.
I thrust her into icy waters.
She cried at the shock.
And I cried because she cried, but she never left My hand.
I began the intricate artwork...
the carving.
Some cuts went deep.
The work of My own right hand.
But what a thing of beauty I was making, for My own special use.
Oh, such joy I took in her!
But there are tears in such work.
I saw what I was carving, but she just saw bits herself falling to the floor.
It made her cry...and I cried because she cried.
But she is almost done.
A thing of beauty.
A work of art done by My own right hand.
And this magnificient piece I am proud of,
AND I WILL USE HER FOR MY GLORY!
Posted by: Jeannie Killian | July 16, 2008 at 11:35 AM
What strength I sense in you. It's evident that God is with you...I pray for continued strength for you as you go through this very difficult time. Your Hubby is surrounded by awesome splendor and love. I guess we'll have to forgive him for that! Just doesn't seem right for him to go home so soon... but God's ways are not our ways. I'm sooooo sorry for your TEMPORARY loss! We're praying for you and asking God to surround you with his love, peace and tender mercies. We're here for you.
Posted by: Karen - Illinois | July 16, 2008 at 04:42 PM
Thank you for reminding us all of how truly precious life and our families/friends are. You and Robin are in my daily thoughts and prayers. Thank you for being a model of faith, peace, patience and love for our Lord. May God continue to bless and keep you ~
Posted by: Lori Wilson | July 22, 2008 at 03:25 PM
I have the strongest snes that God has himself been with through all this - and you were absolutely right. The only thing you needed to say was how much you loved one another.
Posted by: Patrick Cox | August 23, 2008 at 03:28 AM