Thy Will Be Done

She’ll tell you it’s true, that old adage about how time flies by more quickly the older you get. Age does that – gives you a different perspective on life. And if your body tires before your brain, there’s not much to do except sit and think about adages and life.

She thought maybe she wouldn’t feel things as much any more, as though her emotions were suffering the same aging process as her hands or her legs. But that isn’t true. She still laughs at the antics of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren, still worries about and prays for her children, still smiles at the promise of new love during weddings, still cries at funerals.

During the past ten years she has reluctantly let go of her home and said goodbye to siblings and long-time friends as they passed on. She even asked out loud at the death of her youngest brother, “Why? I should have gone first; I’m older.” Ten years, on top of 80, isn’t long enough to understand everything.

On most days now she reads the paper, prays her rosary, watches the Golden Girls and Hallmark movies, plays cards and dice whenever anyone asks, and counts the cars going by the window. She likes going out to lunch or dinner and breakfast on Sunday mornings after church. It’s not bad, it just isn’t what she expected. She gets along okay.

But today? Today marks ten years and the ache that she tries so hard to hide nudges her. So she makes the hour drive; pushes – with help – her way up the hill and sits down heavily on the convenient seat of her walker. For a few brief minutes she is alone, silently speaking to the love of her life. “I miss you. There’s so much I wish you could help me with. I’m looking forward to the day when we’ll be together again.” She leans on him as she stands up to make her way back down the hill and to the car. Out loud all she says is, “Lord, Thy Will be Done.”