Like a Thief in the Night

Rich and I went to bed last night laughing at the silliness that is our life..our relationship. We were playful as two little kids despite the graying hair and wrinkles. As he closed his eyes I watched the veil of sleep take him under. Soon his face relaxed and his breathing slowed to a steady rhythm. I lay there looking at this man who is my husband - I let a haughty thought cross through my mind like a whisper - how luck am I to be so in love with this wonderful man?

As I rolled my way and closed my eyes, my mind's eye envisioned my Dad and how he fell completely to pieces as he held my mother's lifeless body and begged God not to take her away. He died at that very moment; it took his body 2 days to release his soul. I could see myself doing the same thing if faced to walk this earth without Rich. I would beg, I would barter, I would be undone. The grief rose up in me before I could push it away. I felt the clutch of sorrow - of remembrance - of fear - as it took my throat and squeezed.

It has been a while since I allowed my heart to open enough to grieve and to feel the sting of death as fresh as it was the day we stood in the bitter cold January sun watching their bodies be placed into their final resting place. I cried there in the darkness as the heaviness of sadness rose up and sat on my chest.

Today I wonder how it is that I could love my husband so much, that to witness the ultimate love and sacrifice that my parents lived and died together for, could bring such sorrow?

Peace