Double jackpot

One night recently Sweet Hubby and I saw red lights flashing on the street outside our house.  We looked out the window to see the wife of the couple across the street being carried into an ambulance.  (She's home again and doing all right, in case you're concerned, although she has a bad case of long COVID.)

Something like that always brings to mind the fact that one day SH and I will have to deal with one of us being carried away for good.  Those thoughts make my heart clench up and my stomach drop in anticipation of how awful, how unbearable, how ghastly it's going to be to say good-bye to SH.  I don't know how I could ever recover from the loss if I were the one left behind.

But for some reason, this night another thought came close on the heels of the "Oh no, oh no!"  I remembered that I have, astoundingly, been loved every day of my entire life.  First it was my mom, whose affection, support, and warmth could always, and I mean always be counted on.  No matter how neglectful or dismissive or absent or cranky I was, she loved me unwaveringly and I knew it.

Since SH and I joined our lives almost 18 years ago, I have also been loved by him, every day, without fail, no matter what mood I'm in, whether my insecurities are rampant or I'm pouting about something or we've just had an argument.  He loves me and he tells me so many times a day and shows it in a hundred ways. 

I do realize that it is the loss of all that constant, faithful, dependable love that is going to be part of the heartache if SH dies before me.  It certainly was true that when my sweet Mom died, it left a gaping hole in my world, but by then I had SH to lean on and be comforted by, so love was uninterrupted.  If he dies first, I can only imagine with a shudder how bereft I will be.  I hope I will still have my darling siblings, of course.  We three love each other dearly.  But they and I are busy with out own lives, and are a bit more judge-y in our shared love.  It's wonderful, but it's just not the same.

So what I hope is that if (I say 'if' rather than 'when' because SH has promised I get to die first) that terrible day arrives that I lose my SH, I hope I remember to be grateful grateful grateful to have been loved so well, and will allow that remembrance to be a balm, to add some gratitude and sweetness to the bitter sorrow.  Maybe remembering and cherishing those lifelong gifts of love will be what allows me to recover and continue to live my life.  That's what I hope.