In Sickness and in Health. A Love Story.

Something I share with my mom that perhaps most mothers and daughters do not, is that we were both married in the same year. My wedding happened in the spring of 1985; my mother's in December. 

She was his secretary and they had both lost their spouses. His wife had died of cancer in February; her husband of heart disease the following February. Their broken hearts moved them from a professional relationship to a personal one. A friendship was born out of mutual sorrow; their shoulders bore each other's grief. Soon the friendship turned into courtship and then to a commitment to spend the rest of their lives together. Newlyweds in the autumn of their lives. The wedding was a beautiful celebration of a new beginning; a rising above heartache and finding joy once more.

All seven of her children opened their hearts and lives to him and he welcomed them into his own. He became the grandfather my own children would know affectionately as Papa Ern. He was and is and will always be their Papa.

Our lives have all been blessed by his presence, but she has truly benefited more. He has been there for her when she's needed him the most. Not one for living a solitary life, she is so grateful to God for providing  this opportunity to experience marital love and companionship for nearly twenty-five years. I am grateful, too. 

For the past several months he has not been well. Through it all - the trips back and forth to the hospital, the sleepless nights, the celebrations of small signs of improvement - she is there. Loving him in sickness and in health. It has not been easy, but love carries her along. Love lifts her on His wings, giving her strength and perseverance and the knowing that she's not alone. And we are with her, too, her children, his children, never ceasing to pray.