Category Archives: Remembering

Satisfying a Longing

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The minute Nate and I learned of his cancer diagnosis, I wanted to talk to Mom, but she died in 2005. I knew she would have delivered wise counsel as our feet left the edge of the cliff we’d just been pushed from. She didn’t mince words or say flowery things that would perfume over the truth. And at that moment, I wanted the truth, raw as it might be. I craved her empathy and wanted to ask what I should do next.

As Nate and I sat looking out the van windshield on our drive back to Michigan that day, stunned by what we’d just heard, I needed someone who’d already traveled through hardship to come alongside and whisper wisdom into my ear. The unsatisfied longing to talk to Mom popped up again and again during the six tumultuous weeks of Nate’s illness. Oh how I yearned for her advice, her leveling. But as the old proverb says, “Wishing doesn’t make it so.”

Today, however, I heard from Mom. It happened in a most unlikely way, and I view it as God’s gentle plan to fill up the pothole of longing in my heart.

Mom in red coat

A friend from childhood named Al who often comments on my blog, mentioned the close relationship our two mothers had had. These women raised their children together so closely, the kids grew up thinking they were all cousins. When Al’s father died, his mother, Ione, received a long letter from my mother, written four days after the death. The letter was meaningful enough to save for 43 years and was re-read again and again.

Today both of those women are gone, but the letter isn’t. Al thought it would hearten me now, in my new life-assignment without Nate, so he mailed me a copy. When I opened his envelope this morning, the first thing I saw was Mom’s familiar handwriting on four pages of stationary. That alone made me smile.

I set aside the letter for a quiet moment later on, eventually sitting down with a mug of cranberry tea and an eagerness to hear from Mom. I read it twice, thinking of the sweet relationship between these two women. Then it occurred to me that since I believe God put the letter into my hands to help me, too, I would read it one more time as if Mom had written it directly to me, a new widow just like Ione had been. And from the letter, here is the gist of her counsel after she began with, “Dear, always-brave [Margaret]” :

  • Think back at least three generations and count your blessings. Thank God for “stoic, loyal, living examples of the Scriptures – steadfast, immoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord. Bless the memory of those who lived long, long ago.”
  • Cherish your women friends. Receive their comfort. They are “…golden threads of friendship which, through the years, have knit [you] together in a near-holy bond of fellowship. Who would have dreamed [your] socializing could have become such a blessing?”Ione's letter 2
  • Never doubt that God took [Nate] home for important reasons. “Perhaps the bodily affliction that laid him aside was for his grooming in the hand of God.”
  • Be grateful for the family you still have on this earth, even though your husband, the family leader, is gone. And remember with fondness that Nate loved each family member and the warm home you made for him. “A man could ask for no more, earth-wise.”
  • “The greatest of your blessings is – as you well know – the presence of Christ in your lives and your home. Herein is Love.”
  • As for [Nate], “he is very alive in the presence of the Lord… with the very Lord who gave him you, [Margaret], and the children [and grandchildren].”
  • Now, “work harder than ever for the Lord, because of your [Nate]. I commend you to the God of all comfort.”

Only God could have orchestrated such a creative way to not only help me during a time of need and encourage me for weeks to come, but also to do it in a way that filled the longing in my heart to hear directly from Mom.

“‘All this,’ David said, ‘I have in writing from the hand of the Lord upon me, and he gave me understanding in all the details of the plan.’ David also said to Solomon, his son, ‘Be strong and courageous, and do the work. Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord God, my God, is with you. He will not fail you or forsake you until all the work … is finished.’” (1 Chronicles 28:19-20)

The Love Dare

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Many of us saw a movie in 2008 called “Fireproof” about a couple whose marriage was falling apart. The husband was challenged to secretly do loving things for his wife for 40 days straight in an effort to warm their relationship. It was a good story based on biblical principles, and Nate and I enjoyed the movie. Several months later, bookstores showcased THE LOVE DARE, a book detailing the 40 days of love. Each chapter ended with a “dare” to do something kind for husband or wife.Love Dare 2

Last December, I saw the book on sale and decided it might be fun to quietly do 40 days of good deeds for Nate as we started a new year. We weren’t having any marriage struggles at the time, but I bought the book, always wanting to make our marriage better.

I made THE LOVE DARE part of my daily devotional time and looked forward to seeing what each new “dare” would be. The first one was to “say nothing negative to your spouse” all day. That wasn’t difficult, and I checked it off with ease.

The second day instructed, “Do one unexpected gesture.” While Nate was on the train heading to work, I called his answering machine and thanked him for being willing to go to work on a nine degree morning, to battle it out for our benefit. I also thanked him for plunging a toilet before leaving and carrying six loads of dirty clothes to the laundry room. Journaling as the book suggests, I listed my phone call as the unexpected gesture but also the six things he did for me before 7:00 AM.

As the days ticked away, I completed each “dare” and learned new things about my husband. I learned he loved me far more unconditionally than I loved him, and I became increasingly thankful I was married to Nate.

As our moving date came closer and life picked up speed, I found it harder to get to THE LOVE DARE book. A month went by. Then two. Eventually I lost track of the book but figured I’d find it when we unpacked after the move. Four months went by but finally it surfaced. I wanted to continue, having seen interesting gains in our relationship, so began again on September 20 at about the half way point.

Two days later, we heard those words, “Pancreatic cancer, metastasized, inoperable, incurable.” And in the swirl of activity that followed, there wasn’t one minute to do any more “dares”.

Today I looked at the last “dare” I’d done for Nate. It was to spend focused time in prayer for him. On the journal page I wrote, “I enjoyed praying for Nate more than an hour this morning and am excited to watch for the Lord’s fresh activity in and around his life!”

The Scripture for that day was, “Beloved, I pray that in all respects you may prosper and be in good health, just as your soul prospers.” (3 John 2)

To read that now makes me ache. But the events that unfolded after my hour of prayer for Nate were so unusual, I can’t view them as anything but God’s doing. As I’d requested in prayer that day, I did get to see “the Lord’s fresh activity in and around his life.” It just looked wildly different than I’d envisioned, and it was contrary to what I’d wanted. But God isn’t predictable and doesn’t do our bidding. We know only what’s in front of us. He looks over our heads and sees the distant future and all the good that will be part of that.

I regret not finishing THE LOVE DARE. Between January and November, I had plenty of time to complete 40 days of “dares”. Had I known Nate’s life would come to a screeching halt on November 3, I’d have been more diligent about getting through the book, but I thought I had all the time in the world.

The achy verse from 3 John actually had it right. Nate’s soul is indeed prospering (understatement!), and he is definitely in good health!

“Therefore I say to you, all things for which you pray and ask, believe that you have received them, and they will be granted you.” (Mark 11:24)

What’s missing?

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So far, I’ve had seventeen years as a child, four years as a college student, three years as a working single, forty years as a married woman and one month as a widow. The lion’s share of my life has been spent thinking like a wife, and I know with certainty one month isn’t long enough to think single again.

In answering people’s questions, I’m still using “we” instead of “I”, even though the other half of my “we” is gone. Saying “I” reminds me of a line from an old song, “One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do.” Back when I was single, I didn’t feel lonely at all, but having been a couple for so long, suddenly I feel it.

Today I sent an anniversary card to some dear friends. Despite our anniversary coming and going with only half of us here, it wasn’t difficult to celebrate with another couple still in tact. The hard part came when I signed the card. The words, “Love, Margaret and Nate” rolled right out of my pen before I could stop them. It’s hard to remember to sign from just me.

But the worst adjustment is learning to talk about Nate in the past tense. I catch myself saying, “Nate loves holiday ties,” then needing to correct myself. “Nate loved holiday ties.” It’s almost not worth saying at all.

Other things must change, too. When my cousin Calvin was here at the time of the funeral, he gently reminded me that the categories of our marriage Nate used to handle will now have to be handled by me. For instance, Nate always made the coffee, put salt in the softener, arranged the vacations and handled insurance policies. My cousin told me, “If you can’t do what Nate used to do, ask someone to help you, so those things aren’t left undone. But you can do a lot of it yourself.” The problem comes in even noticing what needs doing when you haven’t done those things for forty years.

While Calvin was here, we left the house for several hours and returned to find seven big candles still burning on the mantle. Nate would never have stepped out the door without first blowing them out, but I didn’t even notice.

Calvin also said, “I know Nate made sure the house was locked up each night. Are you doing that?”

It hadn’t occurred to me. Actually, the house hadn’t been locked for two months. My cousin was right. I had to wonder what else was undone because of Nate’s absence. I remembered back to Thanksgiving and realized I’d invited all the same people as always but neglected to give anyone an arrival time. Nate had always done that with phone calls, touching base with each one ahead of time. Our guests ended up calling and texting me that morning asking, “What time is dinner?”

The day after Thanksgiving it occurred to me we hadn’t talked to the far-away relatives we usually call on each holiday, and of course the reason was that Nate always did the phoning. I might take a turn on each call, but he was the one who remembered to initiate them.

newspapers, 2

Nate also was my news informant. He read four newspapers every day: The Chicago Tribune, The Daily Herald, The Wall Street Journal and The New York Times. He gave me the condensed version, wanting to talk current events. Since Nate’s death, I’ve been woefully uninformed. We don’t have television at the cottage and can’t get a clear radio signal, so I haven’t seen or heard a newscast in weeks. This was never a problem, with Nate keeping me up to date.

These are the little surprises of widowhood. Piled one on top of another, they make for a sad day. Solved one at a time, they bring hope.

“For the Lord grants wisdom! He grants a treasure of common sense to the honest. For wisdom will enter your heart, and knowledge will fill you with joy. Wise choices will watch over you. Understanding will keep you safe.” (Proverbs 2:6,7,10-11)