Growing a relationship that endures all storms
ID 59093275 © Beata Kraus | Dreamstime.com
Her tousled silver hair appeared through the ornamental windows of the entry door. The view was limited, but I knew a calm and pleasant smile would greet me as she welcomed me in. The large door opened, and Anna’s diminutive frame did little to fill the space. Although she was slight, her steady, purposeful movements indicated a level of health and fitness normally left to a younger decade.
I was there to help. At least that was the pretense. Anna’s remarkable presence was the type that inexorably gave more value to those around her, even though this time it was her turn to receive.
Her husband Stan’s passing just a year ago had been a shock. Six weeks, maybe seven, the exact interval doesn’t matter.
The telephone rang.
“Your test results are in… I’m very sorry…”
There is no amount of time adequate to absorb such news.
Similar to Anna, Stan had cut a lean figure that was strong beyond its size. Fit and lithe, with a white beard lending an appropriate air of intelligence to his image. They were one of those couples who somehow shared physical characteristics even though the bond of marriage was the only relationship between them.
