As macabre as it may sound, of course death is on most of our minds right now. The good news is, thankfully, that the majority of people infected with coronavirus will survive. The sad, sobering and thought-evoking news is over 50,000 Americans have died, over 200,000 people worldwide.
200,000 people. People that were fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters.
Husbands and wives.
There are many heart wrenching stories about husbands and wives losing their partner of 40, 50, even 60 years.
What can that feel like to lose someone after a lifetime together?
What can it feel like to know the hole your absence would cause should you be the one to go first?
I don’t know.
I’ll never know.
Of all the things to evoke envy, it wouldn’t seem that a grieving husband or wife would be on that list.
But it is.
Not that I envy their pain.
Though maybe I do.
What is the saying?
Pain is the cost of love.
I’ll never feel that great pain because I am not experiencing that great love.
I’ll never have to worry about my husband mourning me. I’ll never have to assure him, insist, I’d want him to love and marry again should I go first.
It may sound like a terribly odd thing to long for, but I do.
To love and be loved so completely.