Appreciating a Good Marriage.
Having just read some things about a woman whose husband
did not truly appreciate her and about his nefarious activities, my own
experience made me feel that my marriage was one of the greatest blessings that
God could give a woman. Poor Lewis might not have got the greatest, but at
least he pretty well knew what to expect from me—well, most of the time. Except
for moving the furniture around constantly, he knew he would have decent meals
and clean clothes and relatively obedient children. A couple of times he came
home to find fish in the bathtub or rabbits in the small linen closet, but he
knew not to be too terribly surprised by what he would find around here. My
point was, however, that other than his temper, he really did a pretty good job
of being a husband and a daddy. He loved us. You know a man really loves his
children even when he shouted at them when he did his very best to help them in
their every circumstance.
Tomorrow is supposed to be Valentine’s Day which we never celebrated,
but Lewis wore his heart on his sleeve for me and for his family. A heart
picture just does not fill in all the spots that love changed us. Gratitude to
the God who gave us to each other is about the only way that it is possible to
express that love now. Know many a widow who feels the same way. Sue and Glenn,
Sharron and Butch, Carol and Ron, and those like Olga and others whose husbands’
names never come to my mind now—those are the ones today who will remember and
nod their heads. Silly red hearts just don’t cover all that love.
Rest and be grateful for the love and the memories.
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