The Anniversary That Wasn’t
This past week, it would have been my parents 54th anniversary. But instead of doing something fun with my dad this past Thursday, my mom spent her anniversary with me at Panera Bread.
With my dad’s death, my mom lost part of herself. How can you not when you’ve lived with someone for 54 years? When you’ve shared life in its ups and down, its joys and griefs, its beauty and ugliness?
An Example of a Good Marriage
When you are a kid, you don’t really think about your parents’ marriage, unless it is profoundly unhappy in some way. As a kid, I was oblivious. Sure, my parents fought at times, but I never wondered if they’d stay together.
There was never a doubt they were a couple – not just parents or partners – but two halves of a whole.
Heck, they went on dates before date nights were trendy.
They each had a role, but one was not more important than the other.
My dad led our home with a sweetness of spirit that never took advantage of his leadership role. He was never “the boss” of my mom. They worked together, and my dad listened to what my mom had to say. He recognized her uncanny accuracy and insight about people.
My mom always supported my dad as the family leader, but that didn’t mean that she silently sat in the background or just nodded yes to whatever my dad said. Instead, she pushed and challenged him in all the best ways. I think my dad would honestly say that he would not have been the man he was without my mom.
They served God together. I don’t remember a time when my parents weren’t serving together in some capacity at our church. My dad was a gifted teacher, and my mother is the most organized person you’ll ever meet. She can put an event together with one hand tied behind her back, blindfolded. (I did not inherit this gift, by the way).
They made friends and fellowshipped together. Throughout the years, our home was full of people coming for dinner or holidays or get togethers. My parents were never content to be spectators in life. They were full participants, and they participated not as individuals, but as a couple.
A New Season
So, when my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary rolled around, we celebrated with a big party. People came who hadn’t seen my parents in years. Friends came and shared what my parents meant to them. There was laughter and fun and even a few tears. It was one of those perfect days.
A week later, my dad got a call from the doctor, and just like that, their lives changed.
Suddenly, their lives consisted of doctors’ appointments two hours away and drugs with long, unpronounceable names and lab results.
And while my parents had shown me what a good marriage looks like over their first 50 years, the last four years showed me what true love REALLY is – not the fizzy, false picture that Hollywood puts out there, but the deep, steady kind of love that says, “I’m always going to be here.”
My mom never missed one of my dad’s doctor’s appointments – no matter how she felt or how tired she was – even when that meant 12 hour days multiple times a week.
My mom put her legendary organizational skills to work keeping track of the paperwork that goes along with cancer treatments, especially when the VA is involved.
My mom counted out pills and made sure my dad took them on schedule. When taking a pill meant my dad couldn’t eat for a certain amount of time, my mom didn’t eat either.
Three different times, my dad got sick enough that he needed to be in a wheelchair. My mom, who is petite and almost 80 years old, didn’t complain. She just found a lighter wheelchair so she could get it in and out of the trunk herself.
Love Through the Valley
During the last few months of my dad’s life, my mom’s role as caregiver became more challenging and certainly more exhausting.
Instead of just using a wheelchair when they were out and about, it became necessary for my dad to use the wheelchair in the house. My mom wheeled him wherever he wanted to go, whenever he wanted to go.
Everytime my dad got up, my mom had to help him. She would grip his hands. Usually it took about three tries, and on the third, my dad would get to his feet. Then my parents would kiss and smile at each other.
My dad didn’t sleep well, and got up multiple times every night, moving from recliner to bed and back again. My mom went with him. Every. Single. Time.
By the end, she slept with one hand on his shoulder, afraid he’d wake disorientated and try to get up by himself and fall.
True Love in Real Time
True love is about loving someone more than yourself. Watching my mom care for my dad, I saw what true love was up close and personal.
As giddy, young couples, we say our wedding vows, “In sickness and in health, until death do us part,” but in the excitement and joy of starting a new life together, the idea of sickness and death seems far away. We don’t really think about what it means to walk that out.
What that means is walking through cancer with your husband, caring for him even when you are exhausted yourself.
It means dragging out the wheelchair and getting your very sick husband in the car to go get ice cream because that’s what makes him happy when you really would rather collapse on the couch.
It means walking through the valley of the shadow of death holding his hand, so he doesn’t have to make the journey alone.
It means staying by his side even when you’d rather not watch death coming closer and closer.
True love can be warm and fizzy and sweet, but it can also be hard and tiring and challenging. My parents taught me that whatever form it takes, it’s always beautiful.
Blessings, Rosanne
4 Comments on True Love – It’s Not What You Think!
Leave a Reply
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Hi Rosanne,
I spent this summer reading through your blog from start to finish and while I haven’t commented, I just love your blog. Besides being visually appealing (love the colors), you are a very gifted writer.
I am so sorry for the loss of your dad. What a beautiful tribute to your parents and their marriage.
Peace and blessings to you and especially your mom.
Thank you so much, Gail! I’m so glad you’ve been enjoying the blog. 🙂
Rosanne,
Very touching remembrance of your parents life together. Your father was without a doubt one of the good guys in life. We have fond memories of him including his trying without success to teach David how to ice skate! Our faith tells us that we will meet again.
Love,
David & Joanna
Yeah he was one of the good guy, wasn’t he? I’m thankful I have the assurance I will see my Dad again. He taught me to ice skate too, but maybe with a bit more success than Uncle David! 🙂 Thanks for stopping by my little space on the internet.