Do those thoughts ever cross your mind as to why did I get married, especially in the middle of the hard times? Maybe this reflection will shed some light of the long term big picture…..we wish all our clients an opportunity to look back on a life’s journey knowing that someone was in their corner and holding their hand!
One More Day
“How long have you been married?” the nurse asked. “Fifty five years” he answered. “Wow, that is a long time to be with one
person! You ever get tired of each
other?” The nurse grinned at him. He
smiled. “No way. She’s my girl.” The nurse looked down at their hands clenched
together. She smiled. “The doctor should
be in any moment.” The man nodded and
the nurse left them alone.
Their hands were old, wrinkled, and intertwined. You couldn’t really tell which fingers were
hers or his. They sat close together,
heads down, eyes closed. Praying. The doctor came in, closing the door behind
him. They looked up together. “All
clear!” he proclaimed. “Bless you,” the
man said. “Let’s go home, dear.” He stood up, hand still wrapped in hers. She stood as well. “Thank you.”
They walked out of the office.
Their hands stayed clenched together as they walked to the
elevator. The man allowed her to walk in
first, his hand still closed around hers.
He pushed the button. They went down to the first floor. Arm stretched out, he allowed her to exit
first, never letting go of her hand.
They walked outside and he opened the car door. Once she was seated he closed the door and
went to the driver’s side, heading home.
This wasn’t the first time they had been here. He thought about the many times he had held
her hand like that. There was the birth
of their first born, a joyous occasion.
And then the miscarriage, their first loss. He held her hand for
days. Then their second born, a
difficult delivery, but safe and sound in the end. There were other times they held hands, not so
clenched tightly, like church services, evening walks, trips driving in the
car. There were spelling bees, parent
teacher conferences, track meets, dance competitions, and football games. There was letting go of the training wheels,
of the car, of the car keys. There were emergency
rooms and broken arms, kidney stones, and appendixes. And there was the loss of the job, and late
nights worrying and wondering. There were
weddings, anniversaries, and anxious grandparents awaiting their first
grandchild. And there were funerals, oh
the funerals where the hands were held so tight. Funerals of good friends, and of parents, as
time passed and stole its best and closest family. Then there were tests, and surgery, and
waiting for healing to begin. And they
prayed, and the healing came. And all
the while, he held her hand.
Now the doctor had looked at the new tests, and they stole
their time back. They called to shared the
news with their children. “What ya gonna
do now, Dad?” “Sit here with your mom
and watch some tv,” he answered. “Why
don’t you go out and celebrate? Don’t just sit there holding hands all night!” “We’re fine right here, son. Goodnight.” He went to make her some tea, and brought it
in to her. Then he sat down in the chair
by her side, and he took her hand, and they bowed their heads in thanksgiving
for another day. She smiled up at him,
and he winked back, “That’s my girl.”
And he turned on the television to their favorite program.