Remember

I can still remember the day we met all those years ago. We were both eighteen. You had just transferred for his last year of high school. When you flashed me that dimpled smile, I melted. Then I tripped on the steps. I was so embarrassed.

You held out your hand and helped me up. It was so sweet. You even helped me pick up my books. I fell in love with you right there on those steps.

Three years later, with trembling hands, you pulled a ring out of your pocket and stuttered through the process of asking me to marry you! I thought that was the happiest day of my life, but two years later, when we stood facing each other at the alter, I almost burst with love and joy. The day you became my husband was the day my life changed forever,

Several years passed, and we still had no kids. I was heartbroken and depressed. I wanted a house full of kids, complete with laughter, dirty diapers, and spilled milk. I wanted the sleepless nights and messy rooms.

We had all but given up on ever having kids. Then it happened. I remember the shocked look on your face the day I showed you that pregnancy test. Your brows drew together, then your eyes went wide, and a smile plastered itself on your face. You shouted for joy and spun me around in a circle kissing me.

Five years later, we had three kids and another on the way. I stayed home, and you worked all the time. We barely saw each other. You were up and gone in the morning before me and came home long after I went to bed. It was the saddest time in our marriage. It almost fell apart. I almost fell apart.

The house full of kids and big family I wanted wasn’t turning out the way I pictured. I stayed up late one night, waiting for him to come home. When the clock struck midnight, I couldn’t hold my tears back any longer. I imagined the worst possible thing you could have done, and for me, that was cheating. You never came home that night, and I dragged myself into the kitchen, pasted a smile on my face, and made the kids breakfast.

Shortly after breakfast, two police officers showed up on my doorstep. My heart nearly lept from my chest as I answered the door.

“Mrs. Mitchell?” The taller one looked up from a notebook he held in his hand.

“Yes. That’s me.” My voice shook with each word.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news about your husband.”

The tears spilled down my cheeks long before the officer told me all the details of your accident.

“He’s in Bates Medical center in critical condition. Is there someone we can call to help you with the kids?”

I shook my head. My parents had both passed away, and yours lived in a different state. There was no one. My mind scrambled to come up with a friend or neighbor, anyone who could watch the kids so I could be with my husband.

The fog in my mind cleared, and I remembered a sweet older lady from church who had volunteered to watch the kids for me if I ever needed a break. I quickly searched the desk in the living room for the number and made the call. My voice quivered as I told her the story and asked for help.

She came right away, and twenty minutes later, I was on my way to the hospital. Four weeks and two surgeries later, you were back walking around.

 You lost your job six months later, and we worried constantly about where we were going to get the money to pay our bills. We started cutting out things we didn’t need. I got rid of my cell phone, we cut the satellite t.v. out, and let the new truck get repossessed. Still, we struggled to find money just to get by.

I started working from home for a call center. It wasn’t much, but it was work. We started fighting constantly about money, the kids, even where the furniture should be in the house. It was out of control. We were out of control.

We managed to work through it, and twelve years later, we sat side by side as our eldest son graduated high school and went off to college.

Barely a year later, I was diagnosed with cancer. I remember feeling off balance and in a daze when the doctor told us. My options were laid out before me, but I had no idea what to do. You took the lead and talked through all the options with me until I was confident with my choice.

It was a struggle to fight this thing eating away at me, but you never let me give up. You held my hand and stood by my side through everything.

I still remember the tears of joy that streamed down your face the day the doctor told us I was cancer-free. We went out to celebrate, picking the fanciest restaurant in town. Such a joyful day turned into such sorrow when you got that call on your cell phone.

Our youngest was in an accident, and they did everything they could to save him. He didn’t make it. My heart broke that day, and I never could put it completely back together again. I tried to deny he was gone, but when we laid him in the ground, I couldn’t deny it anymore. I cried for days and refused to leave the house. You took care of me while suffering your own pain and sorrow.

The days blurred together until you told me that I couldn’t stop living just because he wasn’t here on this earth anymore. You were right. It was hard, but I made myself do something every day, and I’m a better person because of it.

For fifty-five years we stood by each other's side. Now here I sit beside your hospital bed, holding your hand as you slowly slip away.