A guest post by Paige Johnson.
She sobbed uncontrollably, her entire body racked with grief. Her sixteen year old daughter tried to comfort her by rubbing her back and whispering in her ear. I can’t even imagine how you begin to comfort someone who has just lost her soul for no good reason.
Tearing my eyes away from the sight so as to quell my own sadness, I looked across the room. The funeral had just begun, the casket lovingly carried down the aisle by his closest friends, and the family had been seated. As I wiped the tears off my wet cheeks, I had to look again. I’m not sure why I felt the urge to watch the mother and daughter like that. I couldn’t stop. My mind was racing with what I thought was going through both of their minds at that moment. Surely the wife was thinking “How am I ever going to get through this? My husband, my best friend, my everything is gone.” And the daughter, oh how my heart ached for her. I imagined her thinking, “Who will walk me down the aisle at my wedding? Teach me to drive? Threaten boys who want to date me?”. Who knows what they were actually thinking.
The whole tragedy of it all, the pain, the wonder, the cruelness of it amazed me and weighed heavily on my heart. It gave me pause to think about what I would do in the same situation- if my beloved was suddenly snatched away from me in a split second. It haunts me to think these thoughts. It makes my throat tighten and my eyes well. What in the world would I ever do without him? He is my partner in everything, truly my soul mate. He is the father of my children, the one who takes care of us all. If he were to leave us one day without warning I truly think our world as we know it would crumble. It sounds trite, but I find myself worrying about the little things the most: who would install the car seats, who would fix things around the house, who would kill the really big spiders, and so on. The big things I can’t bring myself to really delve into. Sleeping alone. Handling a baby and a toddler alone. Feeling safe at night. I weep with these thoughts. The fear is too real. It’s too much for me to wrap my head around.
I suppose if something good has to come from the death of my friend’s husband it is all this thinking, this new knowledge in my being, that I cherish my husband so very much. My life is complete with him in it. My soul is safe and my heart is full. I have vowed to tell him I love him more often, to touch him more, to let his heart into mine more. Should he ever be taken from me I want him to go knowing he was loved and adored more than life itself by me. I want him to know what an amazing father he was, how good he was to our babies, and how I will never stop telling them that. I want him to know he was all I ever needed, and how I would miss him until the day I died. How he made me laugh till my sides ached and made me cry till my eyes burned, how he made me feel so many things I had never felt before. How talented he was, how smart and witty and wise.
But most of all I would want him to know that because of him I became the best version of me that I could. He has my heart in the palm of his hand and he always will.