He leads me like a shepherd

Marilyn and Bruce after their wedding May 5, 1995.

As the summer fades and fall draws ever closer, I [Marilyn] am reminded of how quickly my life is passing right before my very eyes. This very year itself has passed by at a speed that proves to me I am not in control of much here on this ol’ earth. It seems that just yesterday I was scooping an early spring snow off my deck, anxiously awaiting the arrival of spring!

This October marks the seventh anniversary of the death of my best friend, my companion, my teacher, my protector, my provider, my comforter: my husband. The man God gave me for just a very short time to enjoy life with.

Every fall as the seasons change, as the butterflies hover over late-flowering plants, as children return to school and football games resume, as early morning walks are blessed with crisp cool air and the nights lengthen and turn cool, at times my heart aches heavily with memories from that day that changed my life forever. As I stroll through my fall-colored yard, I can look up at the roof and see Bruce repairing that shingle. I hear his voice as we share our hopes, dreams and lives during those last few days of his life here on earth with me. I remember a picnic in the back yard on that clear fall day with some special friends, the last time they saw Bruce alive. I remember the mid-afternoon break in the back yard, when we lay on the grass and smiled in great contentment at our lives. I had no way of knowing that in just a few short days, Bruce would no longer be by my side.

Bruce and I were rejoicing that he was feeling better after recovering from minor surgery that had turned into a major recovery process for both of us. I was starting to breathe a sigh of relief that he was healing well and his strength was returning. He was so relieved to be able to work on our house again, that he finished up one project after another, with me right by his side.

That Sunday was special because he was well enough to attend both services with me! Oh what a day of rejoicing that was, not only for us, but for our wonderful church family! Everyone was so glad to see him up and around and involved with us again. Our feelings of joy and contentment were like a cup, filled to overflowing with blessings abundant.

Being able to breathe again did not last long however. Into the deep hours of that Sunday night, a deadly infection had begun to show its ugly head in Bruce’s body. Bruce woke me up with news that things were not as they should be. We immediately followed the same procedures we’d been trained to do after his surgery, with no good results.

The following afternoon, Bruce was admitted to the hospital. He was immediately hooked up to IVs with powerful antibiotics surging through his body. Tests were taken to determine the source of this downhill slide. News of what this infection could be made us shiver with fear. Steadily, Bruce became sicker and sicker, losing all the strength he had regained, and more, til he was no longer able to sit up alone. Food did not stay down, and dry heaves were hitting him hard.

On the evening of Bruce’s second night in the hospital, he called me at work. He sounded excited yet weak. He said that he was hungry for the first time in days, and wanted me to have supper with him. Our last meal together was Cream of Tomato Soup and a Grilled Cheese Sandwich at the hospital. Too weak to feed himself, I gave him small sips and bites of food. I was overjoyed to feed my husband and to see him eat!

As Bruce rallied that evening, my family and many of our friends came to visit us in the hospital. The room was packed with loved ones showing us how much they loved us!

The room quickly cleared though, as Bruce’s body once again turned for the worst. I watched in shock and total fear as I saw my husband’s condition worsen. The knot in my stomach grew ever larger and my heart grew tight. The doctor was called and administered some sleeping medication so that Bruce’s body would calm down and he could get some much-needed rest. As Bruce drifted off to sleep, I quietly left the room and returned to my empty house.

What happened during the wee hours of the next morning, I can explain only by believing that it was the Holy Spirit’s move on my heart. To read what took place next in my life, come see us again tomorrow at this same location, where I’ll pick up the story right here!