I was 57 when my wife, Jenny, died. Loneliness overcame me like a barren winter day when she passed away. She was the only one I ever loved. As our marriage made it through the years I just knew she would be the only woman I would ever love. But now I was alone.
Our children, Emily and Matthew, were both married and each raising a family of their own. They all came back for the funeral, but had to get back to their jobs and their lives eventually. I understood. They are both good kids, married to good people, and raising their own fine families. They are all Christians, and I can count my blessings for them.
Both Emily and her husband Jim, and Matthew and his wife Georgia, wanted me to come live with them. I said I would think about it, but I knew I never would. I love them too much to put that kind of burden on them. Besides, I still had a job near where I lived, and was still eight years away from retirement.
Jenny and I had so many plans when we retired. We were going to travel a little, visit the kids and grandkids a lot, and generally enjoy the leisure’s of retired life. She was too young to die. We had so much life ahead of us yet.
I was too young to give up, yet too old to make a new life for myself. I felt caught somewhere between youth and old age. I felt so alone without Jenny. Jenny died in September of that year, and by December I still felt such an emptiness in my heart. It was so hard to come home from work each evening. Most often I would spend two or three extra hours at work, mainly so I would not have to go home to and empty house.
Weekends were the worst. The first three or four weeks after Jenny’s death I would spend all day Saturday cleaning the house, but that could last only so long. Jenny had always kept the house immaculate before she died, and it because all too obvious that I was just doing busy work. Now nothing seemed to ever be out of place. Soon Saturdays became the longest day of the week. I found myself, even on the coldest of days, walking over the little town we lived in. I usually had no destination in mind, I would just walk so I would not have to stay cooped up in the house, surrounded my memories of Jenny.
Sundays were somewhat better, since they were broken up by church services. But even there I would miss hearing Jenny’s sweet voice as she sang the hymns and choruses during worship. The people of the church, as always, were very understanding and helpful. I had to throw away some of the food they were always bringing me, even long after Jenny’s funeral, because there was so much more than I could ever eat. I gave some away, but feared some of those generous people might be offended if they knew I did not eat their casserole or the bean salad.
Yet, I will never forget that first Christmas Sunday after Jenny’s death. That was when little Mikey Baker asked if he could sit with me during the worship service. Of course I told him I would be honored to have him sit with me. Mikey wasn’t so little, except in my eyes. He is still little to me because I remember when his parents, Rachel and Sam, brought him to church for the first time. He was just a little bit of a bundle; seemingly small enough for Sam to hold all of him in the palm of his hand. But Mike has grown these past eleven years, and is quite a strapping young boy now. He probably would blush if he heard me call him Mikey.
I always felt that Mikey was God’s gift to me that first Christmas after Jenny. Mikey surely has been a real blessing to me ever since. His voice certainly was not Jenny’s, but there was a sweet innocence to it as he sang out the words to the Christmas carols that Sunday morning. I came to look forward to having Mikey sit with me during the services. He seemed to fill a gap in my life as he sat there in that pew, or stood next to me as we sang together.
Of course there came a time when Mikey, or Mike as we call him now, found other interesting people to sit next to in church. But occasionally, even during his teen years Mike would bring his latest girlfriend over and they would both sit with me. And he was always visiting me in my home. During those first years after Jenny’s death Mikey would bring over a pie or some cookies he had helped his mom bake that day. Other times he would bring a game and we would sit for hours on Sunday afternoons playing Monopoly, or Sorry, or some other board game.
In those early years it was Saturdays that became my favorite days. This was especially true during the summer months. That would be the day I would get to go to the local ball field and watch Mikey play little league baseball.
I watched Mike all through his high school years as he participated in just about every sport his school had to offer. Mike was a good athlete, and an honor student. It was an emotionally charged day when Mike went away to college. I think I was just about ass proud of him as were his parents. He accepted a scholarship to one of the Christian colleges affiliated to the church in which we both attended. There Mike played football, and studied in the field of Education.
I say it was an emotionally charged day, the day he left, because my life once again became somewhat empty. Yet I was so happy for Mike and his family. He had become a good Christian young man, and was following what God led him to do. The college he decided to attend had a good reputation for developing fine teachers, and this is where Mike felt led to receive his education degree.
Mike would come home every Christmas while he attended college. While home he always made sure to sit with me during church services, and would remind me I was expected to be a part of his family’s Christmas celebration. Mike continued to be God’s gift to me each Christmas. I cannot imagine how lonely my life would have bee all these years without my Jenny if Mike had not been there to fill the emptiness.
Christmas, during Mike’s senior year, brought us a surprise, and a little jealousy to this old man’s heart. Mike wasn’t near as interested in me that year as he was Beth. When he and Beth announced, during his family’s Christmas dinner, that they were engaged to be married. I have to admit, at that moment I felt a terrible emptiness and a lot of self-pity overwhelm me. All of a sudden I felt all alone again. It almost did not seem fair to me that Mike could be so happy with someone who would be his wife well into their future. Why couldn’t I have Jenny? I began to miss her all over again.
Swift memories of our first Christmas together swept over my mind. Jenny. She was so young and beautiful. We went ice skating on Christmas day, down at the pond near her father’s place. It was a very popular spot, and many skaters were there that afternoon. I remember looking down at Jenny as we skated around the frozen pond. Her cheeks were perfectly blushed from the cold air, and her smile seemed to bring light to an otherwise overcast day.
I already knew I loved Jenny, but I felt as though my heart was going to jump out of my chest that afternoon. I had planned to wait until that evening, when we were sitting in front of her parent’s fireplace, to ask her to marry me. I thought of it as a perfect romantic setting for a proposal. But the aura of her presence felt as though it would melt the ice where I stood. I could not wait. As we skated, I subtly directed her over to a bench sitting next to the pond, and that is where I asked Jenny to marry me.
That was 53 years ago. I had enjoyed 32 wonderful years with Jenny, each one of them more precious to me than the year before. But now, all of a sudden, as I looked at the happy faces of Mike and Beth, I felt cheated. Not only had I lost my Jenny as we were approaching those leisure years, now I was about to lose the person who had filled those empty days when I lost my Jenny.
Mike had no trouble graduating from college with a Master’s degree in Education, and he married Beth that same summer. Much to my delight Mike took a position at our local high school as a history teacher, and a football coach.
I soon discovered that my jealousy and self-pity had been wasted, for Mike once again sat with me during church services, but now Beth sat with him. Now, as we sang the hymns and choruses, Beth’s beautiful voice would ring out the songs with a voice so similar to Jenny’s causing me to occasionally peak her way just to be sure Jenny wasn’t sitting there.
As time went by, Beth and I became very close friends. On Friday evenings, and Saturday afternoons, as Mike coached the high school team in football, Beth and I would sit together in the bleachers. Often Beth would even drive me to the school’s away games.
It was pure joy talking with Beth. She would simply listen until I was done, and then add her insight and wisdom to whatever I had to say. She was eternally optimistic about everything. “God understands us,” she would often say. How true that was and is every day. God had so often displayed his understanding, wisdom and patience in my life. It had taken me years to fully appreciate the love of God, and here was Beth, so young and bright, who seemed to understand His love so completely.
About two years after Mike and Beth were married they had a little boy, and named him James Everett. That’s my name! Yes, they named their first son after me. What an honor, and it gave me such great pleasure to have that little fellow answer to my name. Of course I immediately began to spoil that little boy.
Beth often took little Jimmy out on walks. At first Beth wrapped Jimmy up his carriage, but soon he was big enough to sit in a stroller. Whenever I could I would walk with them, which I enjoyed immensely, especially on warm summer mornings. Of course I was retired by then, so my days were very empty, except for the time I spent with Mike, Beth, and their little boy.
As I look back over the years I can see how God has been so good. He gave me Jenny for over 30 years, and when Jenny had to leave, God did not leave me alone. He gave me Mikey to be a companion during those first lonely years after Jenny passed away. I feel so foolish now, as I remember how jealous I felt when Beth first entered Mike’s life. As it turned out, Beth was simply another gift from God. Mikey was God’s gift that first Christmas after Jenny’s death, and he continued to bless my life through the years. I was as though God’s gift was continually renewed through Mike’s love to me.
When Mike brought Beth home to be his wife, I had no idea how much she would come to mean to me. God gave me Mikey so many years ago, and Mike eventually brought Beth into my life. I pray for her happiness every day; that she and Mike will enjoy a long life together. I pray their happiness will match the happiness and joy Jenny and I shared for those 32 years.
More than ever now I look forward to sitting with Mike and Beth during church services. I so enjoy hearing Beth’s voice as she softly and sweetly sings. I can imagine heaven during those moments. I can see my Jenny singing praises to God; completely happy and full of joy.
I don’t know what heaven will be like, but I know I will be there soon. It may be as gloriously simple as spending time before God, praising and singing adorations to Him. If so I know how I’m going to spend eternity. I’m going to hold hands with Jenny on one side and Beth on the other. I’m going to spend eternity praising God, and hearing the beautiful voice of Jenny and Beth.