I am a sister, widow, mother, grandmother and great grandmother.  This definition of myself, an “extroverted introvert, ” really struck a chord with me. It appeared in the book  “No Time to Run,” by J.D. Trafford. I love to read and that was a free book on my new Kindle. It was a good mystery and you can’t beat free.

This quote by Ron Clark, an educator,  “Always make sure these things in your life at all times: laughter, family, adventure, change and the quest for knowledge,” is my favorite.




My husband’s sister died in 2013. That Thanksgiving Lynn said the prayer at our family dinner. By the time he thanked God for his wife twice and mentioned his sister, everyone was in tears. I remarked, “Well, we won’t do that again—it created a tsunami of tears.”

He didn’t make it to another Thanksgiving. Lynn died on the Ides of March in 2014. He had battled COPD for several years. In spite of it, Lynn always had a joke to share and loved everyone—he was a happy man. After his death, I asked our minister, “Whose going to make me laugh now?”

When we planned his Celebration of Life, we wanted to remember those happy times. Because he wore suspenders, all the men in the family wore them to the service–even our three year-old great grandson. Lynn had been in the Navy and as part of the church service two sailors folded the flag and presented to me. “Anchors Aweigh” played as we exited down the aisle.

As I reached the end of the aisle, I greeted our mail carrier who was in his postal uniform complete with shorts. In the church vestibule, we had yellow happy face balloons. We released the balloons in the parking lot as the “Happy” song played on the clarion–after all, it was the International Day of Happiness. One grandson overheard a woman say, “I bet the grandchildren picked that song out.” Actually, it was my idea.

Later our Sunday school teacher said, “Lynn’s service really was a celebration of his life.” That’s exactly what I wanted it to be.

I have done my share of shedding tears in bed and in church. Once in Sunday school we were discussing the places we prayed. I remembered Lynn sitting on the edge of bed at night to say his prayers and the tears flowed.

Recently when we had a typical fellowship greeting as church began, I noticed a widower who had always sat on the opposite side of the church had moved to two rows behind me and we shook hands. This man and his now deceased wife had been nodding acquaintances in church for several years. After church, as I moved down the aisle, he said to me, “You’re looking good.”

It took me by surprise and I said, “You, too.”

I’ve laughed for two weeks about my response. I wonder what he thought about it. The following Sunday, we spoke and that was it, however, he was still on our side of the church.

I did a very risky thing and sent him a Valentine’s card. It read:

Since you moved across the aisle and said those three little words—“You’re looking good.” I have had a spring in my step, a smile on face and we have danced in my dreams. And I don’t even know you yet! WOW! There may be a limit to what this widow can take…

Guess Who ???

This man with one move and three little words made me realize how wonderful it is to be here. I don’t know what the future holds. Nothing may come of this experience but as much as I love and miss my husband of 56 years —-I’m still alive at seventy-five!

          I haven’t heard a word from you know who and it has been a week. Today I saw the foot doctor and guess what he said?

“You’re looking good.”

(This title wouldn’t rhyme if I’d waited much longer because a week from today–I’ll be seventy-six!)


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