nor watch the movie.
I just simply won't.
HOWEVER
This is what I read...
what I saw...
My phone trilled it's "cell phonic" noise.
Answering,
I heard his quiet,
strong,
matter of fact voice...
"She's gone," he said,
"but come over.
We still need you here."
So there I stood,
in the threshold
of her room,
their room,
sensing her presence,
lingering.
And I had every right to be there,
but it all seemed to precious
and sacred...
and I didn't want to disturb
that aura,
that sense of Divine passage
as I reflected on our last time together,
our words,
my last look back,
her weak hand held up
in goodbye.
I read that.
I saw that,
as life just hurried on past,
brushing and bustling on past.
Her bed was crisply made.
The items necessary for her care
were already gone.
But her presence lingered,
it lingered
in notes from grandchildren
taped to the mirror,
and the Guidepost magazine
laying on the bedside table
and photos of ones she loved
placed around the room.
The "grand dog" must have sensed
the emotion,
the newness of change,
because he stood beside me,
his head hovering about my knee cap
and he licked my finger tips,
with his soft little tongue,
like the first gentle waves
of an in-coming tide.
As I stood there,
it felt as though I was
watching a sunset fade from view.
I pondered the moments
that had brought them to this place,
well and me too,
for that matter.
Across the years as her strength failed,
I was one of the ones blessed
to be called in to help.
And I watched
and learned
as she hosted family gatherings
and parties
and games with friends
and Easter egg hunts
and huge Thanksgiving dinners
all from the confines
of a motorized chair.
She was mighty,
and humorous,
and caring,
and interested in others...
so many others...
and she made you feel like
YOU
were her best friend.
Bff for life.
I saw her do more
from her motorized chair
than some people
do in many many years...
maybe even a life time.
She read this blog.
She was anxious for
a new story to post.
She would comment to me
and let me know
what she thought
about what I wrote.
The reason I make these
short centered phrases
in the format
of my blog...
is because she
always
always
told me she loved visiting here.
And I found out
this format
made it easier for her
to read,
to see on the screen.
On my screen
to the far right,
right now,
that is her
beautiful
smiling face
leading the list
of the group
who like this blog.
I don't know
if your screen shows it
that way,
but I love it that mine does.
And he,
he is the one,
who told me to write,
to write somewhere...
besides this blog...
and I took it to heart
because he is wise.
And they loved my family,
from the time we met in 1999,
and treated us like their own.
But there were times,
no matter who was there to help her,
she as his bride for 62 years,
she only wanted him.
Just him...to help
to lift her,
to turn her,
to say just the right things to her...
or know when to walk away..
and let her be,
let her sleep.
And he was strong,
stronger than strong,
and caring,
and diligent,
and methodical,
and humorous,
OH how they could laugh...
And I was blessed
for just a while
to read,
to see,
this dance,
this dance of life,
as the steady beat,
of life
and love
slowed to a waltz,
and then a slow waltz,
like the tines in a music box,
s.l.o.w.l.y.
p.l.i.n.g.i.n.g.
the last notes
of a true love song.
And on Valentine's day,
when others were thronging
to see 50 Shades...
...while the near zero temps
blew snow in strong
sideways gusts...
I witnessed,
a dedicated husband
stand at the head of his wife...
and express his thanks
for her love and faithfulness,
and say,
"Goodbye for now,
because I will see you later. "
Yes absolutely,
that's what I saw on Valentine's day.
And I'm stronger.
I'm a better person,
because that is what I saw.
I read.
I saw.
I witnessed love
in sickness and health.
Mrs. Mary...forever in my heart.
