Mornings...

I love the mornings.

I haven't always.

Morning used to be my least favorite part of the day. 

Retirement made the difference.

And remarriage.

 

You see, I'm a slow starter.

It takes me a while to wake up after I get up.

Before retirement, I didn't have time for a slow start,

I had to hit the ground running.

The same was true when I left my full-time job

to become a full-time caregiver to my Al.

That is what I was thinking about this morning. 

 

At this point eleven years ago,

we were nearing the end.

I didn't really have to rush into the morning anymore.

He was sleeping most of the time,

was not really eating anymore,

and once he'd had his meds and sponge bath,

the house was quiet.

And lonely.

I could take the time to wake slowly,

but it wasn't pleasant,

it was sad.

The same was true after.

 

Eventually, I went back to a full-time job

and mornings were once again a rush-job.

But even though I still wakened slowly,

the rush was better than the slow, quiet wake-up 

of my empty house.

 

But this morning,

and all my mornings now,

is different.

This morning, I woke just before dawn,

I stretched luxuriously,

rolled over and looked at my sleeping husband,

smiled and touched his beautiful face,

rolled out from under the covers,

and the dog and I snuck quietly out of our room.

 

I and my coffee sat in my rocking chair for a bit,

then moved to my cozy easy chair where I can see

all the Christmas trees in this part of the house,

our sweet little Christmas village,

and out the window to our waking neighborhood.

I read and sipped my coffee.

I thought of my sleeping husband.

And I compared, which I don't often do.

 

I thought of those mornings 11 years ago

when I sat near a sleeping husband,

watching intently.

I didn't relax.

I didn't enjoy.

I listened for the oxygen tank.

I watched for the rising and lowering of my beloved's chest as he breathed.

 

Now I sit quietly, joyously anticipating the wakening of my beloved.

I read.

I ponder.

I pet the dog, the cats.

I slowly sip my coffee.

I watch the neighborhood -

    the leaves scuttling across the yards,

        the kitties exploring,

            the people driving past on their way to work or school.

I revel in my quiet, slow awakening.

I find myself wondering why I am so blessed.

I do not have an answer.

I am undeserving.

I am not a "better person" than many who are not so blessed.

I am not a "holier" person - believe this if you believe nothing else!

I am not a wiser person.

It is not that I have given my heart to Jesus -

    though I have - 

many others have and do not have my earthly blessings.

And many haven't and have many more "worldly" blessings than I.

No, I live in the same fallen world as the rest of you.

I fall prey to the tricks of satan from time to time

just like everyone else.

Still I am greatly blessed and highly favored among women.

I do not know why.

I do know this.

I AM greatly blessed and highly favored among women!

As I approach the new year,

my 12th of widowhood,

my 9th of remarriage,

I cannot help but look at both my husbands

and praise God!

The Promise

Eight years ago this evening,

I made a promise.

I had made that same promise

one faraway afternoon 40 years earlier.

I kept that promise.

And I will keep this one.

"With this ring, I thee wed...

...Until death do us part."

The first time I made The Promise,

I had no idea what I was promising!

None!

I had experienced loss before

and my mother's impending death

loomed large the afternoon of that first Promise,

so I thought I knew.

I didn't.

I loved, still love, my Al.

Our love grew and deepened over the years

to a thing of great beauty.

I ran across a note from a friend a while back, 

written about 20 years ago,

commenting on how well I loved my husband.

I was comforted by that note

because I AM a much better wife to my Lanny Love

than I was to my Al

and that brings me sadness - and joyful gratitude.

But though I loved him,

though I logically understood The Promise,

I did not.

I didn't understand its depth,

    its breadth,

        its height,

            its fullness.

I couldn't.

But that evening eight years ago,

I understood The Promise intimately.

And it is different to make The Promise with foreknowledge.

We had talked about it, my Lanny Love and I.

When it became apparent that 

our relationship was headed toward permanence,

he asked me to think about it.

I had, before I ever decided to begin the dating process,

but I promised to think and pray some more.

And I made The Promise a few months later.

Remarriage from widowhood is different.

The starry-eyed innocence of first marriage is missing.

The knowledge of The Promise changes expectations.

I went to bed last night with the knowledge that 

this morning may be very different.

And I woke this morning in celebration that it wasn't.

In 8 years, that hasn't changed, the morning celebration!

Honestly, when I first started dating,

I was simply desperate to make the pain go away.

I started too early.

The distraction provided by dating

did not ease the pain of loss.

After I got my little heart broken,

and broke the heart of another,

I stepped back and grieved,

because there's no way through it

except through it!

When I began dating the second time,

I did it with knowledge of the cost.

    I wasn't looking to stop the pain of losing my Al.

        I wasn't looking to relieve loneliness.

            I wasn't looking for companionship.

I was following God's leading.

That is the very best way to approach dating under any circumstance.

I was picky!

I mean, I was PICKY!!!

I had a list.

Yup, an actual, written list.

 

                                                Non-negotiables

                                                    Really, really important, but negotiable

                                                        It would be really nice

Before I ever went on a first date,

I checked off the non-negotiable list.

I didn't go on more first dates than I did.

There were a few second dates,

    only a couple third,

        no kisses.

Did I mention I was picky?

Then came the day.

 

"This man is slightly outside your set perimeters 

but we think you'd like him."

It was not the first time I had received that message.

And I always checked the profiles.

This one was different.

I checked it again.

And again.

Then I did what I did not do -

I made the first contact.

 

After the fourth "canned question" exchange,

he invited me to email.

I accepted.

Several weeks later, 

after many long email exchanges,

was the first date,

    followed by a second,

        and a third,

            then a first - a fourth and a kiss!

This paragon of manhood checked off every single item on my lists!

And many I hadn't even known I wanted!

Our first kiss,

    "I think I'm falling in love with you..."

        "I am in love with you!"

I was too!!!

In just a few short weeks,

we began to talk about "if we were to marry...".

In the fifth month of our relationship "if" became "when".

 

That God had His hand in our relationship is very evident.

We are both fascinated by the number of times our paths crossed

long before either of us thought we would ever be dating,

and repeatedly after our widowhoods.

We enjoy the mutual hesitation and eventual decision

to sign up for eHarmony at about the same time.

God intended to bring us together!

He is so wise!!!

 

So today, on the eighth anniversary of The Promise,

    I am filled with joyous gratitude.

        I am in love!

            I am happy!

                I am living the life God planned for me!

And one day, when it comes due,

if I am the one left,

through the tears and sorrow,

I will be glad I made The Promise!

 

Happy Anniversary, my Lanny Love! 

Only already

Tomorrow.

Eight years.

Simultaneously I find myself saying

 

"Eight ALREADY?!?!?"

and

"Only EIGHT???" 

 

People often comment that we still behave like newlyweds.

They envy what we have.

We often wonder to one another if other couples our age are like us.

I don't think they are. 

 

I am a people watcher.

I enjoy watching interactions and relationships.

Especially with older couples.

I notice when couples talk in a restaurant...

    and when they don't.

I notice how couples look at each other.

I notice when they hold hands or walk with arms entwined.

I notice how they touch...

    or don't.

And I've started asking.

 

"Y'all are so cute! How long have you been married?"

 

I always hope to hear 32 or 37 or 45 or 53 years.

I don't very often.

I am more likely to hear two or seven or ten years.

Occasionally I ask their story.

A very large percentage are widowed,

a few divorced,

once a first marriage for one, divorce for the other.

They are all but one people who have loved and lost.

And learned.

 

I dare say that if I pursued my questioning,

if I asked about their previous marriages,

they would each say that,

no,

their first marriages had not been as...

    noticeable.

 

We learn from loss.

I spend a lot of my time on this blog

    encouraging people not to wait for 

        the excessively expensive lesson to learn. 

But we all do to some degree.

I am -

    sadly and gladly -

a better wife to my Lanny Love than I was to my Al.

 

It feels like we have been together forever.

It feels like we are newlyweds.

It is a marvelous blend!

 

We learned.

May we never forget!

 

Silent November

What can I say that I haven't already said?

 

So they passed quietly,

        these days of November ~ ~ ~

            but certainly not unnoticed.

 

November 3, Judy's birthday.

    The eleventh one since her death,

        the eighth since she came into my life.

 

November 5, final hospice day.

    The twelfth one since the call came,

        there was nothing more to be done.

 

November 8, Al's birthday.

    The eleventh one since his death,

        the 52nd since he and I became us.

            On FB, I copied a post from a previous year ~ ~ ~

                because what could I say that I haven't already said?

 

November 14, my mom's birthday.

    Her 87th,

        the 42nd since her death.

Thirty days of thanks.

    How long have I been doing that formally?

        Longer than I can remember.

 

It's not that these days passed unnoticed.

    It's not that I am not filled with gratitude.

 

But what can I say that I haven't said before?

 

Somehow, words would not come this year.

    Somehow the feels, the emotions would not be expressed,

        the thoughts were a jumble of.....

            a jumble.

 

And so the days passed quietly,

    reverently,

        thoughtfully

covered in crunching leaves,

    softly falling snow,

        becoming memories of 

            that year I couldn't pay written tribute. 

 

 

The best part of any relationship...

Remarriage from widowhood.

What a confusing decision!

What a sometimes all-consuming process.

What an important, life-altering choice!

Do I risk loving again?

Do I accept being alone and, like Paul,

learn to be content in my circumstances?

 

Just like grief, though similarities exist,

each journey is different in the decision to date and remarry.

Each person makes the decision that is,

in their experience and with their knowledge,

best for them.

 

Once the decision is made,

the resulting journey may again have similarities,

but each journey is, once again, different!

The emotions are different!

The experiences are different!

The personalities are different!

If you are in that process,

my heart reaches out to you!

 

I have a fellow widow friend

who had a wonderful marriage,

fun, happy, and loving.

In some ways, her journey through grief and dating

is similar to mine.

She kissed a few frogs,

a couple of them poisonous.

After more than a decade,

she has decided that 

she is happy to remain single

unless God drops Prince Charming into her lap

and writes on the wall that "this is the one!" with His finger.

It is the right choice for her.

 

I have other friends who,

for reasons unknown to me because they are fabulous women and men,

want to find their chapter two mate and can't even find a date.

They do the right things,

but no nibbles.

They wonder if they aren't young enough 

    or pretty/handsome enough

        or thin/buff enough

            or smart enough 

                or...whatever enough.

That's not it!

They are all those things and infinitely more.

They wonder if God has forgotten them,

why He gives a mate -

or if not a mate, contentment as a single -

to others and not to them.

There is no answer to those questions outside of God

who usually keeps them to Himself.

Still others desire to remarry,

meet the man or woman

that God intends for them quickly

while some spend long years seeking before they find God's intended.

Some have happy, easy chapter two marriages

while others find remarriage filled with difficulty.

Most who remarry seem to fall in between.

 

I myself find myself in the first category of marriages.

My marriage is delightful, love-filled, and easy. 

Though I walked a bumpy path getting there,

once I stopped trying to do things at my speed and in my way,

God moved quickly and amazingly.

I love my life!

Why am I so blessed while others,

likely much more deserving than I,

are still so lonely?

Honestly, I find myself having to be careful.

I am so happy and content that 

I want everyone I know to have the same experience.

I plot "fix-ups".

I internally object when someone decides to stay single.

I pray for my widowed friends to find great love.

I have to be careful.

God's plan for my life

is not necessarily the plan for theirs

outside of His desire for them to lean on Him,

    trust Him,

        walk in obedient submission to Him.

I found this to be true when my friend posted the following meme.

I didn't "like" it and I didn't comment on it

because I didn't like it

and anything I could have said about it wouldn't have been helpful.

Because my experience has been different from hers.

And I can't understand the depth of her pain.

My frogs mostly didn't give me warts -

at least none that Compound W didn't remove -

hers did.

Now, several months later,

though it still makes me very sad for her

and for those who agreed with her,

I am glad that, for once,

I didn't challenge her post.

My sadness for her may be legit -

but it could very well be misplaced in God's plan for her life!

 

For me, the best part of my Lanny Love's and my relationship

is NOW!

Every single day, we love one another more,

cherish one another more deeply,

are more grateful to God for giving us one another.

For me, tomorrow will only be more of the same joy

until God calls one or both of us Home.

My perspective is vastly different from hers!

 

I know other widows who had frog paths

and who, like me, found Mr. Right and are happy and content.

But that is not everyone's experience.

It isn't my friend's.

 

Honestly?

I pray she gets my outcome someday!

I pray that someone absolutely, stunningly wonderful

comes along and sweeps her off her feet!

God has made her so amazing

it seems a shame to not give her to someone!

But that is not my decision to make

either in the pursuing or the answering.

 

Meanwhile, I praise God for my Lanny Love,

for our marriage!

I am so glad I waited for the man described below,

a meme also posted by my friend.

 

I know!!!

I am very blessed to have been gifted so well!

And I am infinitely grateful!!!

 

 

 

 

The coffee smelled like Al this morning...

No, Al did not smell like coffee,

nonetheless, the coffee this morning 

smelled like my Al.

 

He was a coffee connoisseur

and a coffee snob.

He loved Colombian coffee

and in particular MJB brand.

It was the only coffee in our home.

 

My Lanny Love and I also love coffee,

especially Colombian.

Though we are not exclusive to it

and we primarily use whole beans,

I still love MJB which, unfortunately, is not available in whole beans.

This morning I opened a new can

and it immediately took me back to that long ago kitchen.

It smelled like Al.

 

I have missed him heavily lately.

It has become normal,

missing him more as I remember the last effort to save that autumn -

despite being told it would not save, only possibly extend and

hopefully provide comfort, still, I clung to hope... -

and the closer we come to the holidays...

and then the month of his death. 

 

This morning, the smell of a fresh can of MJB was overwhelming.....

 

Place me like a seal over your heart, 

like a seal on your arm. 

For love is as strong as death, 

its jealousy as enduring as the grave. 

Love flashes like fire, the brightest kind of flame.

                ~~ Song of Songs 8:6-7

Choosing emotions

I used to thrive on it.

Or at least I adjusted to it quickly.

Not any more.

 

It probably began in my heart as a child.

That longing for constancy, resistance to change.

But it didn't become a front and center thing

until after Al's diagnosis and death (ADD).

Now I hate it!

Most of the time even when it's something I want,

I need time to adjust.

For example, I knew very quickly

I wanted to marry Lanny,

but if he had asked at the point I knew -

or even at the point he knew a little later -

I would have panicked and probably answered in the negative,

even though I knew he was the one.

I needed time.

And so did he.

And we thankfully gave that to each other.

 

But when it is something I am choosing out of need or necessity

rather than desire -

or not choosing at all but having thrust upon me...

oy vey!!!!!

 

Now, I've always known this

but recently, I've been reminded that

my reactions and, 

    to some degree, 

        even my emotions

            surrounding change

are my choice! 

 

Don't get me wrong!

There is that initial reflex influx of emotion,

those immediate "feelings" that come

with anything that happens in our lives.

We can't control those

anymore than we can control

becoming out of breath 

from a long run or climbing several flights of stairs.

Or can we?

 

I exercise regularly.

I have a family history of health issues

that make exercise and staying fit a big advantage.

But to be honest,

I don't exercise as regularly or fervently

in the summer.

It's HOT where I live

and I do not glisten,

I SWEAT!!!!!

 

I'm not talking a little underarm perspiration and brow moisture,

I'm talking rivulets running down my entire body and limbs,

dripping hair and clothing.

Nice picture, I know.

Despite the fact that I pack a water bladder,

in triple digit temps and dry conditions,

it is easy to become dangerously dehydrated.

I'm not a morning runner so 

before the heat is not a consistently viable option for me.

I just won't do it in the long-term and I know this.

 

Therefore, in the spring and early summer,

I can do my five miles and still breath and talk.

In the fall, I cannot.

It's training.

And training or not, 

    and the subsequent benefits or consequences,

        is my choice.

 

I am coming to realize,

okay, I've known this for a LOOOOOOONG time,

that emotions are the same.

I have to train to keep them under control.

I have a friend who used to say,

"Feelings aren't right or wrong, they just are"

and I used to embrace that.

But sometimes our "feelings",

the emotions surrounding events,

    circumstances,

        relationships,

and a plethora of other "feelings",

do have a measure of "right" or "wrong".

This is where training comes in.

 

It is finally beginning to cool down a bit here.

I will begin retraining for my five mile a day run this week.

I don't like the training period,

but it is necessary and,

in the long run,

so very beneficial to every aspect of my life.

 

Time to start retraining some emotions...

 

 

September 3

Ten years.

An entire decade.

So long...

    So fast...

 

I didn't know Judy.

Non-the-less, I grieve on this day

for I know and love the one 

who knows and loves her.

 

That is one of the things about

marrying a widowed individual;

you inherit grief days.

 

Ten is harder somehow.

I've talked about this before.

My Lanny Love has had a hard week.

Today has been a teary day.

 

Today he lunched with his daughter.

They both wanted to include me

but I declined.

This is an intimate day.

One where memories are shared

along with tears of laughter and sadness.

It is a time for those who know and love her

to remember without hesitation or explanation.

It is a time to finish each other's stories;

a time to begin the laughter 

as soon as the first word is spoken.

 

It is not that I haven't heard the stories.

My Lanny Love and I share extensively

about his Judy and my Al.

They likely didn't talk about events I haven't heard about

and if they did, I would enjoy hearing those stories too.

But my tears are for them,

their tears are for her.

It is different.

Today is for them.

This day of intimacy needed time together

just for those who know her, love her, miss her.

 

This evening, in the quiet of the day,

my Lanny Love and I will very likely share

a time of reflection.

He will very likely cry for his lost love.

I will cry for him.

 

Ten years.

An entire decade.

So long...

    So fast... 

 

 

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow,
Because He lives, all fear is gone;
Because I know He holds the future,
And life is worth the living,
Just because He lives!

 

                                            ~~ Bill Gaither ~~

The answer is "no"

I "wondered" in my last blog entry.

And the answer to my "wonder" I think is no!

 

I was reflecting on the realization that

the loss of my Al no longer causes me excrutiating pain

as it has for so many tears.

I love him, I miss him, I feel sad sometimes,

but that physical and emotional pain

that could take me to my knees in sobbing tears,

that anguish that could wipe me out for days at a time,

that hurt that dulled color and dimmed light,

that seems to be gone for the most part.

And I wondered if it would be so

were I not so joyously remarried.

And I've continued to wonder that

over the last couple weeks.

I think the answer is no,

it would not likely be so.

I think I would still somewhat regularly 

experience that debilitating pain

had my Lanny Love and I not found one another.

Recently, my Lanny Love and I watched a movie

where much of the plot was very similar to

his and his Judy's experience through cancer and death.

My heart hurt for him as we watched.

After the movie, we readied for bed,

and though the door is always open for conversation,

he didn't talk about it.

But he did seek comfort in music,

and in God's gift to him in me,

and in a few tears.

There was much tenderness that evening,

both given and received.

And he felt better. 

 

I understood completely for

the roles have been reversed!

I thought about those types of moments

for some of my single, widowed friends

and our conversations about them.

I thought about those moments of my own

before and after my Lanny Love.

 

And the answer is no,

I would not likely be at this place of healing

were I still single.

I think the pain would still be acute

without our remarriage -

                                for both of us.

I think that incident,

and others like them,

would have had the ability to disable for a time.

 

Time itself does pass and

the bereaved learn to live again.

God is there to be the "husband".

But God does not physically hold us in His arms.

He does not verbally whisper words of love and comfort in our ears.

He does not fill the empty side of the bed with warmth and flesh.

 

You see, God created us for physically present relationship.

In the very beginning

He saw that man needed a mate:

“It is not good for the man to be alone.

I will make a helper who is right for him.”

                            Genesis 2:18 NCV

 

Before the fall, 

He walked in the garden each evening with Adam 

and still, He knew Adam needed a mate.

How much more so once His physical presence

could no longer walk in harmony with man!

Now I do realize that

God does not choose to bless everyone

with a "chapter two" spouse.

For some, being single is their calling

and they are content with God as their spouse;

for some, being single is their cross to bear.

I don't pretend to understand how or why

God chooses which way each person walks after widowhood. 

I do understand this:

God does know!

He has chosen each path for each person

for their eternal benefit and His glory!