The Hand of God

Somedays are worse than others. Memories come flooding back and almost overwhelm one with sadness. And then something unexpected happens and you are reminded of the hand of God reaching out to you when you most need it. Yesterday was one year since my husband left. My uncle, my mother's brother and the only uncle I have left, phoned to wish me a Merry Christmas and thank me for the Christmas letter. What a delight to hear his voice.

Today was one year since we buried my husband's sister and admitted him to the hospital. This morning a longtime friend of my husband's family from Alberta phoned to wish us a Merry Christmas and update us on her family news. What a lovely way to start my day. After dinner I went over to visit my husband but as he was absorbed in watching "Miracle on 34th. Street", I went downstairs and was wandering around when the chaplain came along and asked if I would like to go for coffee. She was a former student of my mother's and comes from my church background. Our coffee stretched into an hour as I talked through the difficulties of the last years and I knew it was no coincidence that we met in the hallway at that moment.

This day is almost at an end and I am ready for a new beginning. I have done what I could for my husband and it is time for me to move on and build a life of my own. Visiting the nursing home will still be part of that life but not to the extent that it has been. My life is elsewhere.