I should be pretty pleased with myself.
It’s 10:35 PM on a Tuesday. The younger kids have been prayed with and tucked in. Marcus even referenced our devotional scripture in his prayer. The oldest one is hard at work on pre-calculus. I’m reasonably caught up on work and planning. But I’m not feeling pleased. I’m missing the one that helped us get to this point… namely, my wife. She’s in West Palm Beach receiving a monthly iron treatment, which we discovered she was desperately low on this summer. I wish there was a clinic closer to us, but the one she goes to now is an acknowledged expert in blood disorders. And as I let the kids in to the house after bible study, after chasing them down from their respective bible classes, I found myself wondering just what I’d do if, God forbid, I had to do this parenting thing on my own. I guess after losing our dear friend Mr. Kemp, Marcus’ godfather, on yesterday, my thoughts have turned to how we move on after loved ones move on.
So I take a moment to reflect on just what I would have to do without my wife in my life.
1) I’d have to encourage myself when I get discouraged.
2) I’d have to be both protector and nuturer to the kids. I wouldn’t have the luxury of veering to one extreme, knowing she’ll balance me out.
3) I’d have no tender kisses on my head to console me after a long day.
4) I’d very likely starve to death within days.
5) I wouldn’t have anyone to dream about the future with.
6) The kids and I probably would spin from project to project without rhyme or reason, with no one to pull us back into order.
7) Grocery shopping would become a major hassle. I’d rely on the kids to know what we needed, which I’m sure would result in lists of juice boxes and Oreos. And I’d never know which isle to find anything.
8 ) I’d have no one to patiently endure my grousing about politics, the economy or any of my other pet peeves.
9) I’d sleep on the couch, with no one to take me to bed after falling asleep in front of the TV.
10) I’d have to show my daughter how to be a woman by the memory, rather than the example, of her mother.
11) I’d have to be kinder and warmer with my boys, so they’d never forget their manhood isn’t formed without sensivity to feelings, something my wife demonstrates naturally.
12) I’d go on working to help our family survive and our kids to grow up into loving and capable adults, but with a hole no one on earth would fill, empty of the love and comfort I have with her.
I could go on for days, but thankfully I don’t have to. As I write now, she’s at my side. And I can turn my attention to appreciating what I do have, and loving her for who she is.
Looking unto the hills,