One year ago on this date my husband died. We had just celebrated our 48th wedding anniversary and were so hoping we would make it to 50. Since his health had been so fragile for a year or more, we both knew that was a real long-shot, but we hoped nonetheless. That’s what people do, right? You don’t just stop and wait for that final moment.
Now, today, I look back at that awful September day 2013, and I try to take comfort in the fact that we had two weeks of really good days from the time he came home from the hospital August 19 and the day he died. He felt better than he had in months, and that dark mood that had made him so depressed had lifted. He smiled. It was like the sun coming out from a dark cloud. You know. That dazzling brightness that almost takes your breath away.
I think that’s why his sudden death that Thursday morning was such a shock. I had dared to hope that those good days would stretch into good weeks, then good months, and maybe a few more good years.
This grief stuff is hard. There’s no doubt about that. You know if you have lost your partner, your soul-mate, your best friend.
So today, I am going to be gone for the day with some of my kids. Here are some of my favorite pictures of my husband.
The picture of Carl with Marie, the sheep we raised from a lamb bottle feeding her, is one of my favorites.
He was always so happy when he was able to use his gift of preaching.
We loved going to the coffee shop in town, Art & Espresso, especially on our anniversary. This was August 20, 2011.
R.I.P, Carl. I miss you.