Talking With God

Some nights as I lay in bed talking to God I would be reminded that I hadn’t had my routine checkups. I worried that I hadn’t taken time for myself to have a colonoscopy, a pap test, let alone another mammogram. I would deal with it all later; I needed to figure out what it was I was going to do now. My office skills were so outdated, who was going to hire this 50 something woman with these old skills not to mention a bad knee and bonk back. So the decision was made, off to school I went. It would take two years to get a legal assistant degree and this would be a wide open field by the time I finished. I tore into the work that consumed me. Trying to learn this new stuff after doing the same thing for so many years would prove to be tougher than I first thought, but I was doing it. It took everything I had.
By now my husband was living in his own little world of working two jobs, playing in his band and taking care of his elderly parents. I didn’t see him much and hoped our relationship could make it through another bump in the road. Soon he had to place his father with severe dementia in an assisted living home leaving his mother alone. At that point he pretty much moved in with his mom and just came home on Sundays when his brother could give him a break. It was really Ok, we have to take care of our parents, it made me wish I had spent more time with my mom instead of spending so much time at that stupid job.
In February of 2010 on a Monday morning my husband’s cell phone started ringing. The woman on the other end of the phone explained to him that his father had passed away in his sleep during the night and they needed him to come and make arrangements. Just one month later in March his mother would follow and take up her place in heaven also. The year had hardly started and it seemed we were in for quite the ride.