Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Illustrate the meaning of "It's No Use Crying over Spilt Milk" (without using the actual phrase or literal exampl (02/07/08)
TITLE: Worries Greater Than YOU Are
By Teresa Hollums
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It wasn’t a grand entrance. It wasn’t even an entrance that a lover would wish. But it was a man with a now less-than-perfect stomach and physique. His balding gray hair stood on end and he carried his fresh underwear in his hand. He literally walked into the kitchen with its breakfast sitting totally on the nook almost as the day he was born.
But, to his wife, he was her tiny boy—reappearing each morning so she could mother and love him as she had for all these forty-three years of their marriage. Only the eyes of love over many years could see the person that still loved and needed her.
He gently leaned down (as far as he could), and she kissed his cheek as was her custom now that they were both retired and she no longer had to make a whirlwind breakfast to go to work.
“Good morning, husband,” she greeted.
“Hello, wife, I love you, too,” and he gently padded over to his chair at the table.
His head ducked behind his paper and then mechanically first took all his medicine and insulin shots.
“How is your sugar level this morning,” she inquired.
“It is o.k. since they changed my medicine. I feel pretty good, but my shoulder still hurts sometimes from my collarbone break this past fall.”
“It really does take much longer to heal now, doesn’t, it?” She glanced briefly at the shoulders and muscles that had once been able to lift anything and do everything. He had never been extremely helpful, but now he simply couldn’t. It put an ache in her heart, but she glanced at her own sagging arms, small pouched belly, and slightly stooped shoulders. I’m glad we are the same age. I can’t resent his ageing anymore then mine.
Her mind drifted back to three years ago, when about this time, they had cried as they held each other tight at the hospital where their oldest son with cancer had just passed away. His comforting arms and care seemed to help as they faced the years following that seemingly unfair death. Both had grieved deeply and still small incidents that reminded them of the dear son and what had once been, caused that familiar dull ache. How they had needed each other then; how they needed each other now.
She suddenly laughed. I remember how much I use to resent his terribly unorganized piles when we first married. I also know how he resented my sale shopping and my longing to always want something else for the house. I know that, though, soon, I will finally have enough saved to take my turn at getting a big house improvement—new rug and tile throughout—even if it was at the expense of waiting. Both his necessary updated new computer and paying off the motor home had delayed this next large purchase.
He quizzedly looked at his aging wife. You know, she is still so very attractive to me. And I love to hear her laugh. “What are you laughing about?” and he looked toward the dog that usually was doing something to draw attention to him. But he saw nothing unusual. The dog simply sat there longing to be given his usual bite of sausage.
“Oh, it is nothing. I was just thinking about all the years we have been together, and I suddenly realized how God has taken care of so many of my most foreboding worries and even terrible disappointments. And, you, know what, honey, you are so needed and always will be. Love you lots.”
He smiled his sweet, charming smile, and she returned it.
She read the daily scripture and prayed, “Thank you, God, for being greater than all my worries.”
“Amen,” they responded together.”
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