I did a funeral for a man that had been married to his wife for 55 years. "It wasn't just any 55 years, it was 55 good years," his widow told me.
After the service I found myself standing alone at his casket along with his wife. She was trying to figure out how to say her last goodbye before they closed her husband's casket for the final time.
She looked at me, smiled and said, "He kissed me every night at bedtime and hugged me every morning when we got up. He faithfully sent me flowers, and still told me everyday that I was beautiful." I felt as if I was listening in on a private conversation as she continued to tell me, "He often called me Hazel." I asked how she got that nickname and she said, "My eyes are hazel, and he always told me how beautiful my eyes were." I smiled at her as my heart hurt for her.
It was then she continued to talk, but now she spoke to him and not to me. "Thank you for being so good to me," she said with tears and a smile, "I will miss you, and I will see you soon." She patted him on the hand, kissed him on the forehead and nodded to me and said softly, "Okay, I'm ready. Let's go."
As I drove to the cemetery to say a few last words for the family, I realized that I had been privileged to witness a very holy last moment between a husband and wife. I couldn't help but be thankful and inspired by this man who was no longer alive.
I sat for a moment by myself to collect my thoughts ... and then I prayed, "Lord, please raise up more men who will hug their wife every morning, kiss her every night and remind her every day that she's beautiful."
~Trey