By Lynna Clark
Oh the stuff I am learning. How to change the water filter… how to empty the vacuum canister… how to take apart the outdoor umbrella base to empty it of water so it doesn’t freeze… All sorts of new tricks. I guess I took for granted many things David did for us; just being the man of the house. Part of it was his way of protecting me from using strength he knew I didn’t have. But mostly he just stayed in behind the stuff that I never thought about. Who knew the vacuum would eventually fill up if no one flipped that little latch so the dust would fall out? Thank the Lord I had sense enough to hold it over the trash can before I tried it. Then our water began tasting like a combination of metal and bleach. And it dawned on me. The filter needs to be changed. Kinda like the box of soda in the fridge which helps keep down odor. It’s supposed to be changed? Huh! Who knew? So I lefty-loosied the filter until my hands gave out. Then realized I had it upside down. So then I righty-tightied it until that sucker popped off and behold! Clean water was mine again! Woohoo! I am woman! Hear me roar! Or something more fitting for a woman of God.
Lest you think I’m a total dingbat, [too late, you say?] I’ve always been in charge of the finances. David never looked at our money or worried about our lack thereof. He knew I’d manage it. Occasionally he’d say, “Stay off Amazon for a while. I might have bought something I’d like to be a surprise.” So I would. I wouldn’t even check my emails until he’d tell me his package had been delivered. He loved surprising me.
There are some things however that can’t be learned, or fixed so far. There was a supermoon a week or so ago. David and I used to step out on the back deck once the moon was above the trees just to enjoy the beauty of it together. He’d gather me in front of him, wrap his big ol’ arms around me and we’d just gaze into the heavens at the Lord’s beautiful handiwork. Eventually he’d kiss me on the head and we’d silently go back inside. I never imagined grieving over checking on the moon by myself. I’m afraid this Christmas will not be the most wonderful time of the year. If I’m being honest, I almost dread it. But then I’m reminded. If he had not loved me so well, I wouldn’t miss him so much.
Fifty three years together. Two years dating plus fifty one married. All that love in exchange for the grief that is mine for now. Not a bad trade-off when I think of it that way. Especially in light of the fact that I’ll see him again in the not too distant future. What a wonderful day that will be! Even better than Christmas.
