Farewell

It was his birthday.  And only 4 days after his wife's funeral.  Their anniversary had been the day following.  We had gotten a call the day before that there would be an impromptu birthday surprise for our pastor on Friday.  On a ruse to celebrate their own anniversay, solicitous neighbors were taking him to Braum's, his favorite place, for lunch. We had gathered there to surprise him.

"Look, he's noticing the cars!" someone said, as we watched them emerge from their vehicle in the parking lot.  "Do you think he knows?"  Then when they came in, we saw a look of realization spread over his face as he took in the smiling group.  He pointed in recognition while we blared out the birthday song.

When he passed our table, I handed him his card, then the others put their cards and gifts there while he acknowledged, laughed and commented over each thought, mostly gift cards for eating out.  "Hallelujah!" he exclaimed when he saw ours was from McDonald's, another favorite  place where he loves to get coffee.

It seemed it was a good idea, this small remembrance and distraction for our pastor during this first week of strangeness, transition and adjustment without his helpmeet.  "I told the boys they didn't have to stay with me anymore," he said.  "They had taken turns staying with me since it happened," he said of their sons.  They had returned to their homes, jobs and families a couple of days ago, and now he was alone.

After an hour or so of visiting, folks began to drift out, so, having finished our ice cream, Howard and I stopped at his table as we were leaving.  I was straightening my husband's jacket as he shrugged into it, when Pastor looked up said, "She always straightened my collar, too," tears coming into his eyes.  "It's the little things.  I stepped out into the garage, and there was a pair of flip-flops by the steps, lying criss-crossed where she had stepped out of them."

We remarked about the suddenness of her departure, and I mumured that she didn't get to say goodbye.  "Oh, but she did, in a way!" her husband said.  I thought he meant when his wife had stood before the congregation and gave the forceful admonition of "Fear not! For I am with you!" to the church.  But he said, "No! You didn't see, but she turned to me just before she sat down and gave me the biggest, happiest, smile I think I had ever seen!"  It was then that she took her seat,  grabbing her head and telling her neighbor to summon her husband.

I was reminded of a poem I had seen on Facebook:

"You've just walked on ahead of me
And I've got to understand
You must release the ones you love
And let go of their hand.

I try to cope the best I can
But I'm missing you so much.
If I could only see you
And feel once more your touch.

You've just walked on ahead of me
Dont worry, I'll be fine.
But now and then I swear I feel
Your hand slip into mine."