Glimpses of Life (5): Home

Glimpses of Life (5): Home


He is finally home.

Yes, he is on the other side of eternity, but he is also here. Next to me. Actually, he will reside most often on his side of the bed. Since we’ve been together, he has wanted that side no matter the bedroom layout. So, I give him his way.

It is oddly comforting, and slightly uncomfortable, all the same.

I love you.

I so love you.

I’ve accomplished more today than I thought possible only days ago. Filing insurance claims, phone calls, details. Overwhelmed at the onset of this week, shifts slightly into a sense of accomplishment today.

Even the septic

The septic has caused me fear and worry even before his death. Its alarms have gone off in the dark of night when Bill would fix it–now causes additional, irrational upset. He’s not here to fix it anymore.

Who will take care of me?

Who will protect me?

Obviously, a septic monster will not come and take me in my sleep, but the feeling of vulnerability is similar to the nightmare of everyone seeing you while on the toilet.

I see in the passages of reading today the cause of the widow was not being addressed, as people tended to their own concerns, and left them helpless.

“God, you will defend my cause–you come near to the broken and weak.”

The other day I had to call many places to change the accounts from Bill, to me. Each were offered with condolences.

But one was like a tangible kiss from You.

I call the septic company.  The lady on the other line walks me through the contract that arrives in the mail. Patient she is with my many questions and concerns, she tells me an employee will come out and walk me through each step, until I am acquainted with the filthy contraption.

Then she does the unimaginable.

She tells me to send the signed contract back to her, and throw away the invoice.


She says they will take care of me for the next year. It is their call to take care of the widows!

God, You are good all the time.

I worry about the lack of communication from insurance companies, the lack of health insurance, the lack of understanding on issues foreign to me.

My lack.

You are both my husband, and my father, especially since you took them both from me in one fell swoop.

You know my lack and fear, and are taking care of me. Always. Even though Bill is with you, and not here,

You are here.

You are near.

“Here I am Lord. Help me. Let me be a help to my girls. I love You. When my chest heaves in grief, hold me close. Wipe away my snot. Let me collapse safely in your loving arms.”

Leave a Comment