Wednesday, September 21, 2011

When He Dies

This morning I was out walking very early. At that hour my mind drifts all over the place and I was imagining John’s funeral. It was prompted, I think, by the music on my IPod, a thought about the music choices I’d make and what the actual event might be like.

Then the fear hit me; I knew how sad I’d be and how scared I’d be and how hard it would be to walk out of the church when John has died. But then my drifting mind reassured me. “Oh,” I thought, “But John will hold my arm, he’ll walk out of the church with me; I’ll lean on him”. And then the terrible reality hit me: When I am at John’s funeral he won’t be able to help me.

On that day I most fear—the day I’ll need him most—he won’t and can’t be next to me.

No comments: