I lost Mr. Virgo in a matter of hours. The shock that kind of death brings is stunning. You cannot breathe. I have often thought to myself how, if he had to die, at least he went quickly and relatively pain free. But what about these people who are given a death sentence way out in front? I cannot imagine what they go through.
Well meaning people say things to the spouse like, “Well, at least you have time to say goodbye.” Or, “At least you know it’s coming.” Seriously? How can knowing be any comfort? How can any amount of time prepare you for such a loss…especially when you pretty much know what lies ahead and it ain’t gonna be pretty? That is horrifying to me. I am blessed to be in the presence of two wonderful people who are walking that path right now with more courage and grace than I can imagine.
I am in the beautiful state of Tennessee. The redbud and dogwood are competing with the bright green of the undergrowth for top billing. There is a party of color in the mountains and valleys of Tennessee and Kentucky that is a feast for the eyes and a balm for the winter-weary spirit. My cousin and his wife moved here last year to live closer to their kids. They’re going to need them. He was diagnosed with mesothelioma over a year ago. They’ve been married for fifty-some years. They are the best of friends and the truest of sweethearts. I see them together and see what Mr. Virgo and I would have been like, given the same circumstances.
My cousin’s wife is incredibly brave. She knows full well what’s coming and she is facing it with grace. You can feel the low undercurrent of fear. You can see it flicker in her eyes when we dance close to discussing the future. But this is a strong West Virginia woman. She is organized. She is getting fit…physically, mentally, and spiritually. She is a Warrior Princess, preparing for the battle of her life.
My cousin has an amazing attitude. He’s not going to go sit in his chair and wait for the grim reaper. He’s out and active. He hunts, fishes, rides his side-by-side in the woods. He’s busy preparing the house to be maintenance free so his wife will be able to handle it when he’s gone. He built a canning kitchen in one of the garages by the house so he can practice one of his most joyful hobbies. He is happy, upbeat, and present. He exemplifies mindfulness. He enjoys every moment, savoring it like sipping a hundred year old single malt scotch. It burns going down, but fills him with a warmth from within.
It is an honor to be here. It is a privilege to witness this kind of love. It is touching to see them in their love dance, gliding across the floor of life…heads held high, hands firmly clasped, focusing only on each other. Here. Now. It’s a tragically beautiful thing. I love them immensely and I’m so very proud of them.
Their hands hold each other. God’s hands will catch their tears.
❤️
““Show me, Lord, my life’s end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting my life is. You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Everyone is but a breath, even those who seem secure.”
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