Two nights ago I dreamed that my husband had died. I woke up and my heart nearly stopped until my flaying arm found his warm body next to me. It resumed when I felt his beating steady and true under the palm of my hand.
I know where the dream came from.
Our neighbor and friend, Jay, went in for bypass surgery and hasn’t come out of the anesthesia. His surgery was Wednesday. With every day that passes, the likelihood of recovery lessens.
I ache with the sadness of it.
It is five in the morning right now and my husband is down at their place, helping the boys milk their eighty cows so they will be free to go sit with their father in the hospital.
We are frail. Humanity is frail.
There are no guarantees and my husband could be the next one fighting for his life.
And while my hope is not in this world, while I know that God would be there, I also know that losing my husband’s companionship would be the hardest thing I could ever face.
Because no matter what our relationship is or isn’t– we’re together. He’s always there beside me when I wake up with arms flaying about. He’s always there when I have questions or my truck breaks down or I need someone to vent to. He’s even there when I just. want. a. little. space.
And I love it.
I love that I have a husband.
Take a few minutes to treasure the fact that your husband is beside you. Because he might not always be.