mental radio

...is when the tunes playing inside my head,

turn out to be the LORD trying to tell me something...

Saturday, September 25, 2004
 
how my husband died

I have told this story many times since it happened on 25 jan 02. And people find it amazing. So I think I will post it here.

We were married nearly 14 years, and had 7 kids. He was the LORD's own gift to me, I know. We matched soooooo well together.

About two months before he died, my husband made arrangements to sell the stock he'd been given in his dad's company back to the company. This would give us a steady income three times a year for the next couple of years.

And then a month before he died, he bought us a new car. Not a new new car, mind you - it was 10 years old - but it was new to us. And newer than the car we were driving.

And right after he bought the car, he got sick.

Vaguely sick. Nothing concrete. He just didn't feel well. Listless. No energy. Suddenly gained about 20 pounds. Began talking in his sleep, too. Weird things, like calling out to me about a bicycle.

???

The day he died, all the kids were sick except for our oldest son. Just about the whole family spent the day in bed. Myself included - not because I was sick, but because our little one was, and fretful. So I laid in the bed by her, soothing her and nursing her all that long day till she at last fell asleep.

My husband slept almost the entire day; I don't think he got up at all. And at about 3 in the afternoon, he started talking in his sleep.

For once, though, it wasn't a bunch of nonsense! Instead, he was saying, 'Praise YOU, Father! Hallelujah!' And he was swinging his arm too - yes, in his sleep - kind of punching it in the air before him the way he would during singing at church when he was praising and worshiping the LORD.

This went on for about 10 minutes. And I thought as I watched and listened, 'He must be feeling better.'

Later I realized that, yes, he was feeling better - but not in the way I was thinking!

About an hour after this, with the little one finally asleep, I asked my husband if he wanted to go to the store. One of us needed to go, and I thought maybe after what I had overheard, he would feel up to making the trip to the store. He said no, that I should go, and for me to take our oldest boy (the only kid who wasn't sick) to help me with the shoppping.

I kinda argued with him. I thought it was more likely that he would need our son there with him to help out with the other sick children. But then I walked into the kitchen and found that they were all up and watching the tv. So I figured they could help Dad out after all.

I went back into the bedroom to say bye. It had been my habit for a long time to give my husband a kiss good-bye whenever I was going somewhere. I had figured out that one day, our good-bye would be the last we would ever give each other, so I made sure to kiss him before I left the house.

I didn't kiss him that day though. He was lying in the bed with only his feet close to me. For me to kiss him, I would have had to crawl across the bed to reach his face. And the little one was in the bed too, where she had finally - finally! - fallen asleep. I didn't want to disturb the bed and risk waking her up.

So I said bye, I love you. And I think I touched his foot. And I left for the store.

Got back about an hour later. Called out to him, 'We're back!' Don't remember him answering. He was still lying in the bed where I had left him. I puttered around the house some, then sat down on the sofa, feeling a bit drained and sleepy myself.

A knock at the door. The neighbor, bringing a bit of food which I gave to the kids. I walked into the bedroom and through it, going into the little bathroom beyond.

While I was in that bathroom I suddenly heard a voice. Very clearly, it said to me, better go check on him; perhaps he's dead.

Immediately I called out my husband's name. No answer. I went to the bed and shook him. No response.

No response. Because he was gone.

The ambulance came. The police came. The justice of the peace came. The pastor and his family came. It was a dazed evening that I remember little of. I do remember cutting a lock of his hair before they took his dead body away, and telling everyone there what a precious blessing my husband had been to me.

I thought of what I had overheard, of him praising the LORD in his sleep three hours before. And then I understood it. He had indeed been feeling better - wondrously better. He was half-way home to Heaven, and I hadn't figured it out.

I have never mourned his death. There was no need to. He is Home - Home where I wanna be. He is happy there, and safe, and not sick anymore. I have no need to mourn him, because I live in that Hope.

As Paul said, we do not sorrow as those who have no hope.

I have indeed that Hope. And in that hope is Peace.


Comments:
Thank you for sharing your story.

I'm interested in you saying that have never mourned your husband. Surely you must have grieved the fact that he is no longer with you.

I have lost both my parents and their funerals were times to celebrate their lives. I know tht both of them are with Jesus and that does give me great joy and comfort. However I still grieved the fact that we are no longer together.

When I am away from home for a week or so for work I miss my wife and children terribly but I still know that I will see them soon. The sorrow I feel for my parents is far greater because I know that I won't see them again until I enter eternity.

I never mourned or grieved for my parents as such, but I certainly mourned the fact that I will not see them for a long time.
 
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