Til Death Do Us Part

This is what I wrote:

Dear Mrs. XXXX,

It was so good to see you the other night. We loved getting to spend time with you and hope we’ll be seeing you again soon.

This is what I want her to read:

Dear Mrs. XXXX,

Yes. I had heard that your husband had died suddenly. Am feeling like a complete ass that I never even sent a card. We thought about it. But we don’t really keep in touch with your daughter, so we just didn’t do it. Inexcusable, I know.

I really can’t believe that you remembered it was our anniversary. Again, am feeling like a complete ass. But this is how I remember you. Always thinking of others.

It wasn’t until you mentioned your late husband, with the most pained look in your eyes, that I understood. Tonight you were taking a quantum leap into the most frightening realm: a public outing without your husband. I looked at you, and I could see that it was like you had lost a limb. A part of you. Someone that was attached. And my husband leaned over and informed me that tonight we were stuck with you. Of course, he was right. We couldn’t just sit back and observe. Because it was too hard. It was like watching someone bleed to death from a gaping wound.

Johanna Reed - click to link

When we got home, while we were brushing our teeth, my husband looked over at me and said, “No offense? But I really hope I go first.” And I understood him completely. Because you? Your heartache was palpable. And the thought of going through that? It looked like someplace between hell and earth. I believe in a merciful God, so I sent up a prayer that in His mercy He would take us both. Together. My SP and I.

Julia Fullerton-Batten - click to link

Thank you, though, for being our reminder. It was a wedding. And you represented the end state of a wedding. “Til death do us part.” The fact that you made it there, and you were still so obviously in love. That was an anniversary gift for us. It reminded us to count every day a blessing.

So your bravery? It is now the stuff of legends for us. The fact that you spent the night clinging to us? To know that we could be thought of as a safe harbor by someone we hardly ever see from out childhood? That was a gift you bestowed on us.

The card? I’m sending it. It doesn’t say much. But I’m hoping it will say everything.