Wednesday, June 19, 2024

Forever Grateful

 Good morning!

 I’m at the stage in life where I’m more apt to be sitting just thinking about things in a quiet-sort of way rather than being up and around, going 80 miles an hour to put out the next fire.  I manage to think on a lot of things during these times, some of which manage to make it into my Thursday Thought.   Such is today’s thought.

I’ve been reading portions of a sort of diary that was written by my friend Karl Detweiler, a man my age who I’ve been friends with since childhood, and was my best friend in high school.  His mom and dad were a sort of second set of parents for me.

Karl passed away several years ago due to a fast-growing, lethal cancer.  With treatment, he managed to live almost a year from the diagnosis, and during that time wrote extensively of his thoughts, feelings, and circumstance on his Facebook page.  On his passing, I took all of his posts from the time of his diagnosis to after the funeral, including some written by others, and compiled them into a booklet.  I’ve been reading in portions of that booklet recently.

One of the things I’ve been thinking of during this time is what it must be like to not have one’s spouse any longer.  Now, I’ve thought about this before now, but with the reading of some of Karl’s writing, I’ve sort of renewed those thoughts.

In my thoughts, I imagine myself in the place and circumstance that I’m in at that time, such as out in the back yard, or driving somewhere.  I imagine what my thoughts and feelings might be if I knew Pat was no longer alive.  One of those times might be when I leave the house to run an errand, and she’s still there at the house.  While on my way, I imagine what I would be doing and how I would be feeling if I knew she was no longer with me.  Now, you may think this is a little weird, and I must be somewhat strange, but if you’re anywhere near older age, with a spouse, my guess is you’ve also thought about this from time to time.

In those times when I’m running this scenario, I inevitably begin to feel, well, let me just use a few words here to describe it.  Gloomy.  Heavy-hearted.  Melancholy.  Empty.  No energy.  Loss of desire.

OK, does that give you an idea of how I begin to feel? 

Let me tell you…I can’t imagine how it must be to have lost a life partner.  Nor can I imagine how it must feel to have a marriage break apart, regardless of who was at fault.  No scenario that I can imagine regarding Pat no longer being with me can fully comprehend the emotions and the aftermath of the reality of such an event.

There may also be people in friendship relationships who suffer in the same way when that relationship goes away for whatever reason.  These friendships would be those close, extraordinarily personal relationships where two individuals become soulmate friends…then for whatever reason, the friendship dissolves.

After 50 years, my wife and I may not say 8 words to each other all evening following dinner and the clean-up of the dishes.  We may not say much more before that.  But there is a certain comfort and feeling of well-being just knowing she’s sitting in her chair with me in the family room watching TV with me, reading, doing crossword puzzles, or whatever else she may be doing.

There have been times in her career when she had to be gone overnight or over several nights.  And you know, it just wasn’t the same.  Something was missing, more than just the fact that she wasn’t there.  It was actually a kind of an eerie feeling at times, knowing I’d be the only one in the  house.

I am extraordinarily grateful that the two of us have been able to share these last fifty years together.  Obviously, it hasn’t all been rainbows and unicorns.  We’ve had our share of disagreements.  We’ve had to move more often than many in the last half-century.  And our families have endured those things that many families have had to endure.

Sometimes, I’ll do another bit of imagining.  I’ll imagine that life for me somehow had taken a different turn and I was married to a different woman…someone I know.  And invariably, I’ll quickly return to the safety and security of marriage to Pat.  And often, I’ll tell her of my imagining, and say something like, “I could probably live with that woman for about 20 minutes…then I’d be done.”

Somehow, some way, we were put together by someone who knew…who knew how this would be…who knew how we fit together.  And I’m forever grateful.

 

Blessings,

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