After so many snow storms this winter, the peace of pure white snow has worn off. The weather people say we’ve had over 30 feet of snow this year. I’m so anxious for spring and seeing my crocuses top out of the snow. There’s almost 5 feet of snow over their tiny heads. Despite the dramatically colder, snowy winter, there is a hint of spring, a re-birth of all the colors in God’s rainbow, hidden in small temperature rises. What brought peace to me a month ago now needs to be energized by the warmth of the sun and the colors of every tree and flower.
There is a re-birth in my soul, as well. I lost my husband six years ago to esophageal cancer, but I rejoice in the knowledge that Michael is in heaven, probably working on some electrical engineering problem for God. I know that he is happy and without pain; that has made this passage of time more bearable. Our love was blessed by the hand of God, made stronger by compassion, empathy, caring, and honesty.
Michael was the light of my life, but I still feel him close to my heart. I miss his baritone voice, the way we held hands walking in the shopping malls, his tender touch at night, the way we swayed dancing to our favorite slow tune, the preparation and sharing of meals, taking time to thank God for all He had done for us, the times we each needed space but shared in the quiet times, and how we were seldom apart with every moment counting for the love it held. We never went to bed angry, and the next day was more beautiful than the last.
Around the house, I feel his spirited energy in my dog, Sammy, and his sense of adventure in my cat, Mikie. There are still times when I wish I could see his car coming up the driveway or when I’d turn over in bed to see him sitting in his favorite chair with a cup of coffee and his laptop. From time to time, I feel him reach for my hand at the dining room table, and I see the most endearing love in his eyes. Some people say you shouldn’t hold onto things of a loved one, but sometimes just touching his cowboy boots helps me to know everything will be alright.
Just as spring holds a re-birth of nature, so does a fond remembrance. I know that I will see Michael again when the Lord calls me home, and for now, I rest in that happiness. There was so much love in our words to one another: “Always and forever.” Just as the sun will soon warm my face, it is good to say, “Oh, what a wonderful world!”
Anna Hartt
