An acquaintance of mine recently experienced a tragedy. I call her an acquaintance because I have never met this person face to face, but she is a dear friend that I have been "internet friends" with for nearly 14 years. We are part of a group of women who (at least when the group started) were all homeschooling and all had more than a few children. (Some now have grandchildren!) Over the years we have become a tight group who have loved, admonished, counselled, prayed, and laughed with each other through both the mundane and the extraordinary events that can happen in a person's life. When our family has traveled, we have met some of these dear ladies and their families, stayed in their homes, visited, and ate together with them.
This friend's husband died, very suddenly and very unexpectedly, last week. It was shocking to see the post that was relayed to the group. Our group pulled together and sent donations and flowers; those that lived close by drove to her home to be with her and her children. We all prayed for the family.
This event has caused me to stop and think, particularly as Sam and I celebrate our 19th anniversary this week. What if I knew that Sam would not be here on earth next week? What would I do differently? Would I be so irritated when he stands behind me and reads over my shoulder? What other little quirks that drive me nuts today, would I miss and long for, should he be gone?
Right now, he is upstairs, making me breakfast and singing the "Larry-Boy" theme song in this bizarre falsetto. That normally would cause me to groan and suggest that perhaps he could "just not sing?" But today, I am thankful to hear his voice, thankful that he enjoys serving me on the one morning this week that he is home and not rushing off to work. I am thankful that I have him here to be irritating and read over my shoulder.
You would think that as a firefighter's wife, I would have made this realization sooner. That my perspective would have been changed years ago. But somehow, the finality of it all escaped me, until this week. Somehow my perspective was lost in the day-to-day routines and habits that are our life.
My prayer this morning as we set off for our anniversary trip, is that we get many more mornings of "Larry-Boy" and the smell of eggs and hash browns wafting through our home.