Not gonna lie, we were a busy family. That’s mostly my doing as a textbook extrovert. We had been married almost ten years and had jobs, church, life group, Bible study groups, School Board, Boy Scouts, dance lessons, swim lessons, piano lessons, birthday parties, and many other activities. I kept an organized master calender and we consulted it often as we navigated schedules. Having stuff to do is not intrinsically bad. But it certainly reduced the quality time we spent with each other and our kids.
Even though the past six weeks were devastating, because I don’t know how being handed a death sentence wouldn’t be, they were so meaningful. Besides the obvious fact that we knew our time together would be limited, I think what we didn’t realize was how nice it was to spend intentional, uninterrupted time together, as a couple, as a family, and with extended family and friends. We talked, we sat in silence, we ate, we reminisced, we prayed, we watched movies, we looked at each other, we planned, we dreamed, and we said goodbye.
Without hesitation, I would trade back those 46 days to have Simon here again. But the time we spent together during those days was a gift – it made me believe in love again. Not just the romantic kind, but the kind that makes you feel alive as you spend time with people who are in it for the long haul. Simon said multiple times how grateful he was, how he had gotten everything he wanted. He was surrounded in love and confident in God’s promises. And as I assess the stuff we have and the things we did, it is so evident that who we are and the love we share is what really matters.