John Denver certainly knew how to write love songs with all the “feels.”  One that continues to tug at my heartstrings, is, “For You.”  It reminds me not only of aspects of Bruce’s and my life together but, especially, of our last 5 ½ months together, and beyond.  The lyrics and music are hauntingly beautiful:

Just to look in your eyes again
Just to lay in your arms
Just to be the first one always there for you
Just to live in your laughter
Just to sing in your heart
Just to be every one of your dreams come true

Just to sit by your window
Just to touch in the night
Just to offer a prayer each day for you
Just to long for your kisses
Just to dream of your sighs
Just to know that I'd give my life for you

Chorus:

For you all the rest of my life
For you all the best of my life
For you alone, only for you

Just to wake up each morning
Just to you by my side
Just to know that you're never really far away
Just a reason for living
Just to say I adore
Just to know that you're here in my heart to stay

(Chorus)

Just the words of a love song
Just the beat of my heart
Just the pledge of my life, my love for you

I miss being “the first one always there” for Bruce.  I’m really missing him today (lump in throat; tear-rimmed eyes), which marks 1 ½ years since he went to be with the Lord (November 11, 2019). That’s the average length of 2 pregnancies, to put it in perspective.  How is this possible?  June 1 will be the 2-year anniversary of his initial stroke.  In many ways, time continues to stand still for me--in spite of (or, maybe, because of) the effects of the pandemic (which, thankfully, came after Bruce’s death), in spite of all of the escalating unrest in the world on so many fronts, in spite of the unprecedented “Snowmageddon” that hit Texas in February.  In spite of the fact that my once newly acquired 3-month-old puppy is now over 1 ½ years old.

I continue to process the excruciatingly painful loss of the person I spent 2/3 of my life with multiple times a day.  No rest for the weary.  There are so many memories, reminders, and triggers:  a white Toyota Prius Hybrid (and there are so many out there); Tex-Mex, Blue Bell ice cream, peanut M&Ms, Dr. Pepper; the Beach Boys.  The 11th of each month; the 22nd of each month (we were married on February 22). Not so ironically, even church is a trigger.  We met in our church choir in Houston in 1974, and singing hymns, old and new, has always been an intimate part of our worship experience.

I finally attended an in-person church service for the first time in over a year.  Up until recently, I had been watching our church’s Sunday service online each week.  At one point, in-person services became available for those wearing masks and social distancing, but I was waiting for normal to return.  I finally got to attend a mask-optional service, where we could sit next to each other, see each other’s smiles, and actually hug each other.  It was so exhilarating!  Almost as good as the day Bruce and I attended our church when we returned to Austin from Dallas, just 8 days before his death.

But just as, after Bruce’s death, my eyes would inevitably water whenever I was in the middle of singing hymns, I continue to experience the same reaction now.  I miss Bruce sitting beside me; I miss his beautiful singing voice.  But I’m thrilled that he is singing his heart out in heaven in the presence of Jesus.  “When we’ve been there 10,000 years, bright shining as the sun, we’ve no less days to sing God’s praise, than when we first begun.” Singing hymns is a constant, bittersweet reminder.  A reminder of Christ’s sacrifice for me, of God’s daily love, faithfulness and provision for me, and of the anticipation and glory of seeing Jesus, face to face, one day.  It is precisely when I get to this part of a hymn that I get choked up, because Bruce is already there; he has enjoyed so much time with Jesus already, face to face.  And I will be there one day, too, in God’s timing.

God has been so gracious in reminding me that He has always been “the first one always there” for me…long before I ever met Bruce, throughout our marriage, and, now, after Bruce’s death.  My mantra continues to be, “Be still and know that I am God.” (Isaiah 46:10).  In the midst of the solitude of the past 1 ½ years, I find myself wondering who I am now that Bruce is gone and what “the plan” is.  I have been less sure than at almost any other time in my life.  Nevertheless, I am content, in spite of not having the answers.  Until the time God reveals something specific, or calls me Home, I am grateful for the luxury and pleasure of leading a very mundane life, taking care of my home and my garden.  Getting introduced to The Great British Baking Show by my granddaughter, Sage, and diving into baking again.  Having a sweet companion, Pepper, to help me work off the fruits of my labor with multiple walks a day.  Hanging out with my grandson, Henry, 2 days each week.  Enjoying phone chats with my other grandchildren and children.  Looking forward to seeing more of them, face to face, in the coming year.  Joyfully anticipating reconnecting with friends after such an interminable hiatus.  Making new friends.

Isaiah 58:11 says, “The Lord will guide you always; He will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame.  You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.”

I am, indeed, a well-watered garden!  Thanks be to God!