Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted. – Matthew 5:4
My aunt and uncle met when they were 14 years old. They were married for 65 years. A whole lifetime.
She had a stroke and spent the last few years in a nursing home. He visited her every day. Most days, he visited twice a day. He could not imagine not going to see her. She was the light of his life.
They had had a good life. They raised 3 children, all successful and stable in their lives and their marriages. They have grandchildren they adore. They have lived in the same city all of their lives.
They have always loved to laugh and be with family. They have a quiet faith and their lives have spoken volumes about what it means to love.
Their home was one of my favorite places to visit as a child. I lived in a dysfunctional family, but their family was “normal.” It was fun and loving and I felt safe and cared for there. As an abused child, alone and in pain, I must have recognized what real love looked like.
My aunt passed away last year. My uncle has lost the light of his life. I cannot imagine how he feels. He misses her every day.
I still receive birthday cards and Christmas cards from him. He sends them because that is what she always did. And he does it as much for her as he does it for us. A small thing. But not so small. Not to me.
Every time I think of them, I am filled with a sense of love and awe. And the knowledge that God has blessed me with their lives … and their love.
Thank you, Jesus.