To the One Who Stayed

To the One Who Stayed,

This post is not easy. I feel like I've endured a roller coaster of emotions and I'm trying desperately to get off, but just when I think it's done, that it's all over, it takes another loop. Another uphill climb and another downward spiral. It goes on and on and I'm weary.

Its not all your fault, I get it. But I confess, all day yesterday, until this morning, I was so angry with you. All you wanted to do was leave, but it was so unlike you. You broke my heart and for the first time in the whole of my life I wanted to shout at you.

Sweet, loveable, gentle, docile you.

I wanted to grab your shoulders and plead with you. I wanted to release the floodgate, banging the doors behind my eyes. I wanted to scream and cry and pitch a fit. I wanted to explode for the pain in my heart.

You are so tired. And that breaks my heart. How I want to ease your pain and bring you joy. I can't, but I want to. I know you are tired. I know you are done.

But you're not done.

I am so selfish! I want you to be here with me! I want you to meet whoever I marry. I want to know you approve of him.

I want you to meet whatever children the Lord blesses me with.

I want to talk books and big words with you. I want to talk about family history and geek out over names with you.

I know I'm being so incredibly selfish, but I still want you here.

But if you're ready, there's one thing I need to say:

If you're going to leave, I understand. I love you, I'm going to miss you, and I promise you I'm going to cry a lot, but do me one favor. Please, just one.

When you leave, be you. Be you when you go from here.

Do you remember who you are?

You're sassy but sweet. You like scrabble and novels and fresh picked figs. You like coffee infused water and gooey butter cake. You like things that grow and you always have plants in your windowsill. You like bird watching, wave watching, and 500 piece puzzles. You follow baseball, and basketball and a mired of other sports I didn't even realize.

You have the patience of a saint! You've endured 30+ years of excruciating pain with minimum complaint, and been the faithful, joyful wife of an ailing man. And the gentle, peaceful woman in the life of so many.

So when you go, please! Please be you! You've fought wars of loving a PTSD husband, crippling arthritis, a number of other minor and (semi)major surgeries...so when you go, please don't just wane to another war, you're a fighter, a soldier. When you go, go like you. Still be you. Leave the way you have done all things: with gentleness and strength; the kind I hope to one day attain. Stay the lady I love and admire so very much.

But for now, one last thing.

If it's ok with you, please stay.