A widow removes her rings

 

When is it time for a widow to remove her wedding rings?  The answer is whenever, if ever.  I knew in June after returning from Mount St Helens that I would no longer wear my wedding rings.  I took them off and set them in the velvet lined drawer next my Beloved’s ring.

Though my finger is not bare.  

During my months of unemployment, I was honored to be available to help my friend take care of her mother.  Carol had been fighting cancer for quiet some time.  She was ready to stop fighting.  Carol embraced the transition with grace, I never heard a complaint about the pain and discomfort she endured.   Now she would complain about not getting her morning coffee and paper in a timely fashion, complain about having to change her positioning, or the socks that I selected for her.  But those were her last fortitudes she could hold to.  A Navy captains widow who was used to running her own ship, her own way….was now at the mercy of someone else to assist her in the most private of tasks.

Carol was the queen of her castle, and those first weeks with me she held firm to what she could still control.  She would have her coffee and crossword in the sitting room, the morning sun warming her face as it rose above the ocean.  I would fix her some oatmeal, myself a cup of tea, and we chatted over breakfast.   She had trouble remembering and would get flustered when the words just would not come.  Her energy levels were diminishing daily, so many times she would tire out just getting through the morning routine of breakfast.   Carol preferred to spend her afternoons on her sofa, having lunch, visiting with friends, and resting.

My not knowing her before hand was a hidden blessing.  I had no clue if her stories were accurate, nor did I have a care if they were!  Carol was free to let a story end, change the subject, or just fall asleep in mid-sentence.  I appreciated that God had placed me there to take care of His daughter, a princess.   I cared for her with the respect and compassion that I would want someone to care for my own mother.  When her daughters came to visit, I handled the care that Carol would push against, as they should only focus on the thing that mattered….the love between a mother and her children.

The last couple weeks, Carol was less able to communicate verbally and relied on assistance for more and more tasks.  She was concerned about when this time would come, how we would communicate.   I told her the Holy Spirit will let me know and correct me when I am wrong, she only needs to talk with God.  She was ok with that, and I believe over the weeks as I prayed with her, asking our Lord to intercede for Carol, it built within her a trust to let go and rely on those who were caring for her.  She was able to say but a few words those last days, but she never forgot her daughters or her grandchildren names, and she thanked Jesus for them every day.

Every day, Carol and I said the Lord’s Prayer.  Some days we talked of angels, of heaven, of Jesus.  The last few days, before I would leave for the evening, I would kiss Carol goodnight and tell her if Jesus comes tonight, grab his hand and run like the wind.

Carol died about a month before my own Beloved.  When I found Steve, laying on his side with his arms reached out before him….the first thought that came to mind was he grabbed Jesus’ hand and ran like the wind.

Carol’s daughters gifted me a ring.
It’s setting like a crown, with a stone the color of royalty.
A ring fit for a princess, daughter the Almighty God.
I replaced my wedding rings with this ring.

 

It reminds me of the hope, the joy, the promise of a resurrected life with Christ.