Thursday, December 29, 2005


I received the following in an email. Go ahead and thank me now because I took the "email this to all your friends . . ." portion out of it. You're welcome.

The story and thought are good ones, however, and I think there's an important message here:


One day a woman's husband died, and on that clear, cold morning, in the warmth of their bedroom, the wife was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't any more. No more hugs, no more special moments to celebrate together, no more phone calls just to chat, no more "just one minute." Sometimes, what we care about the most gets all used up and goes away never to return before we can say good-bye or say "I love you!"

So while we have it . . . it's best we love it . . . and care for it and fix it when it's broken . . . and heal it when it's sick. This is true for marriage and old cars . . . and children with bad report cards and dogs with bad hips and aging parents and grandparents. We keep them because they are worth it . . . because we are worth it.

Some things we keep -- like a best friend who moved away or a classmate we grew up with; or a co-worker we worked with. There are just some things that make us happy, no matter what.
Life is important, like people we know who are special . . . and so, We keep them close!

Now for my "keeper" story: I was in the grocery store this afternoon buying some last minute items for the dinner I fixed for some in-town and out-of-town family. I heard someone call my name, turned around and saw a woman I had known in the church singles group a few years ago. She had been married for 29 years, divorced, was active in the singles group for a few years and then met Charles, and she married him. They've been happily married for almost six years now. As we caught up with what has been happening to each other in the two years since we last saw each other, I told her that I was single...again - that the second marriage had been a mistake from the beginning and only lasted a year. As she was offering sympathy, I assured her that it was okay. Then I told her that my first husband and I were getting back together. He and I were married for 28 years when we divorced 8 years ago. Her next remark was one I'll always remember. With a wistful look in her eye, she said,

"I saw my ex on Christmas when the family got together, and when I looked at him, I knew that we could have worked it out. But at that time I was just weary of all the problems, and I didn't want to work it out."

Although she's happy now with her second husband, she regrets that her first marriage had been a keeper that she let go.

I wish I could end this post by writing something profound, but the message is in the two stories - and they can stand on their own.

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