You have loved me, comforted me, dried my tears, made me laugh, shared your stories, introduced your friends, and dreamed outlandish dreams with me. We have often talked about the gap in our ages, and I have long known that I might live years without you.

But it was two a.m. this last Saturday night when the pain got so bad that we knew we had to get you to the Emergency Room. The thoughts about life came back into my head — life is uncertain — tomorrow isn’t promised.

We waited, what felt like much too long, but then the nurse took us back and hooked you up to all kinds of monitors. The Doc came in before long to talk to us. They were going to do a myriad of tests to find out what was causing all your pain.

While you were away, I waited alone and thought about my late father’s words. He told me how often his clients had worried out loud whether their spouse that had just died knew how much they had loved them. Dad told me how sad he thought it was that such grief could be possible in marriage.  He went on to say that he couldn’t imagine not telling the people you love that you love them. What a sad event to live through — that someone you love dies — and you never told them, or didn’t tell them recently or often enough, that you loved them.

As I waited alone, not knowing what all was going on, I was thankful that my husband knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I love him with all my heart. He hears it from me many times every day, and I know that he feels the same about me.

Regardless of our hopes, life is uncertain. We mustn’t borrow trouble; it won’t help. So, I say, be of good cheer. Love and trust the Lord.  Love your family.  Say I love you often and show it by your actions. Then, take heed of what the doctor says and go on and enjoy the life you are given.