Hello Hatters,
Do you remember the 1971 song, “If,” by the band, Bread? The famous line in that song was, “If a picture paints a thousand words, then why can't I paint you?” I often feel as a writer who wears many hats, I can relate to that song. My words can’t seem to capture the valleys I’m experiencing without my Country Hubby.
Words are so important to me and it’s frustrating when they seem inadequate, illusive, or shallow. Sometimes my mind can’t even grasp a word or phrase when I’m trying to describe something to a friend. Sometimes, I’m just blocked. Is this temporary?
Then, I’ll fixate on a sentence that makes no sense, like “I recently lost my husband.” Well, actually, I didn't lose my husband, like you lose a quarter or an earring. He’s not lost. He’s in heaven with my Lord.
Words are my paint and when my word pictures can’t capture the essence, I don’t even want to post. It's so real how much things are different. I mean, I know it's been real, but just like the other day, my car was in the shop for routine maintenance. I felt pretty vulnerable just admitting that I really don't know much about maintaining a vehicle. I felt awkward that the shop might take advantage of my ignorance. Country Hubby always took care of the cars or trucks.
The same day I picked up my car, the sky was just beautiful. Country Hubby and I would have enjoyed the colors together. I miss that... I miss the togetherness. I want to hear him say, “Everything will be ok!” I go on missing him and I realize that things are just going to be different. But I miss the spark in his eyes and the energy in his step. Heck, I even started missing a dog I had in the 80’s.
I always knew that marrying an older man would have its price tag; it’s hard without him, no doubt. I wouldn't trade it for anything. I got to spend 35 of the best years of my life with him. Aside from my faith walk, there's been no greater gift on this earthly world that I could've received.
As I do laundry for one, dishes for one, and care for the house by myself, I noticed how quiet it is in the living room. I know that being alone is not bad for an introvert like me, but I have to be on guard. Too much alone time is not good. That’s why I went back to the workplace two weeks after he passed away. We are meant to be in community. I just want to say, don't isolate yourself if you're going through a tough time. If nobody's coming to you, then you go to others. I’m more vulnerable when I’m by myself, because I know the tricks of the enemy. I know that when I’m isolated, I’m weaker and an easy target. My community is my family, my friends at work, my friends at church, or my next-door neighbor. We belong in community for strength, comfort, and fellowship.
Tonight was hard as I replaced my ICE contact from Country Hubby’s phone number to a daughter’s phone number. It was another heartbreak. I still have his phone and I renamed it to my name and put a picture of a rainbow for the contact image. It can’t be my ICE (in case of emergency) anymore. These situations have to be handled, but it’s a struggle. My friend says it’s still too raw. That’s true.
I have said it so many times, the way through my journey is just being so grateful and thankful. I'm sitting here looking at my thankful tree. Of the different colored lights, how red is the red? How are the oranges and yellows to be described? How blue is the blue, and Country Hubby, “if a picture paints a thousand words, do you know that I’m lost for words without you?”
MT Penny