He Took It to the Limit

 December 4th, which was Dean's birthday, caused me once again to wait for some inspiration that would allow me to write something about my late husband on his special day. Nothing came to mind, until I was in a dentist chair today, his birthday, waiting to get a temporary crown returned to its throne. It had fallen off unexpectedly the day after I was coronated.

Sitting there, I couldn't help listening to the background music playing in the dental office. The song that came on had been especially loved by Dean back in 1976, the year of our wedding. I hadn't paid a lot of attention to rock music in those years of my life, but apparently Dean had, and he was fond of the Eagles' song, "Take It to the Limit".

The words "So, put me on a highway, show me a sign..." and the rest, really summed up Dean's life up to that point, he told me back then. It spoke of his love of hitchhiking, but also the fact that he had been searching for a way to turn his life around.

I'd like to think he did that with me.

Four Days a Year That Anchor Me

 There seem to be four dates out of the year now that provide me with time for reflection, but also for centering my life on what really matters. And they all revolve around the man I was caregiver for, but who is peacefully resting in Christ now, waiting for His Second Coming, as we all are.

Dean's birthday was December 4th; then there's his date of passing, February 2nd, 2018. Two familiar bookend events in the winter--the beginning and end of his life on earth.

There are two other dates I can't overlook--June 6th (the beginning of our marriage) and September 1st (the date of Dean's tractor accident, which was somewhat an end to our life before the accident).

Beginnings and endings are the most significant parts of our lives, aren't they? What happens in between is so fleeting and short-lived. Not that our current situation doesn't matter, but it perhaps should not be our primary focus.

Beginnings make us thankful, and endings make us hopeful, both needed ingredients for a life of faith and joy. The only thing that really matters in the middle of these is the amount of God's love we are able to spread during the short time we're here.

Although today would have been our 47th wedding anniversary, I remembered that I met Dean in my senior year of college, in 1973, so it's actually been fifty years ago. An even sweeter way to remember today. Half a century. What's that compared to eternity? That's what really matters. So, you see why these four dates are important...

Graduating in 1973

Graduating in 1997

Too Painful for Words

 Too painful for words, but too helpful to be silent. Just two months ago, I remembered Dean on his birthday, and now I remember him again on his "death day". Both are dates that are seared into my memory for different, but similar reasons.

We used to celebrate Dean's birthday in December, because it was an event that brought life to a man I came to love for over forty years. Our marriage changed my life in ways I could not have imagined. At his death, five years ago now, my life has once again changed. I became a widow; but that hasn't been all bad.

The love we shared was not lost entirely. I've been able to channel it to sources that have brought me just as much satisfaction and joy as those blissful, but sometimes stormy, forty years of marriage.

God has blessed me with not only a daughter, but her husband and family, which includes two beautiful granddaughters.

In addition, the last half of these five, swift years have enabled me to reach out to my community in ways that weren't always available when I had Dean's care to consider after his tractor accident. The training brought about by his caregiving provided me with the stamina and determination to be a caregiver for my whole neighborhood.

For two and a half years now, I have daily re-stocked the shelves of a little free pantry in my front yard, trying to keep a close eye on the grocery needs of my neighbors and checking the pulse of the wider community, encouraging them to donate the vast amount of food it takes to feed those in need here.

Although the pandemic has kept me home more than I'd like, I feel greatly blessed that I have a place to call home. It would have been sweet to share all this with Dean, but I have great hopes and expectations that someday in our heavenly home I'll be able to do just that.

Oh, come, Lord Jesus, come! About that, I cannot be silent.