Sometimes When I Think of Deat & Cry, It's Not Sad, It's Something Else

Last night I was over at Sabrina's and she and I had a long talk about devotion to our husbands and families. She and I have hashed out just about every up and down in our marriages as they happened over the years. (She's one of those friends close enough to know Deat WASN'T perfect.)

As we've often discussed, we both made decisions to put career dreams we held for ourselves on hold (or let go of them completely) in support of our respective husband's dreams, and sometimes felt that they didn't realize our efforts. We also talked of how later, in illness, each had acknowledged and shown appreciation. (Not long after Deat's death, Sabrina's husband, John, had a heart attack and open-heart surgery. He's recovering.)

Sabrina and I agreed that while we may have had reservations at the time when we let go of our own dreams, that in hindsight each of their dreams may not have been the best financial choices for our families, but overall they were the right decisions. We each did what we should to support our spouses and back them up. No wishing for anything different.

I told Sabrina I often felt it was one of the ways God had protected me in Deat's death: I had and have no regrets that he missed ANY of his dreams. I have no regrets that I could have done more, I really think that's a gift, I have no emotional baggage wishing I had done more to make him happy.

One of my favorite moments in the week before he entered the hospital for the last time:

Deat and I were standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom getting ready for yet another a doctor's appointment, talking to each other's images in the mirror. I noticed his breathing was becoming ragged from the effort of standing.

"Honey, sit down, that's why the chair is here."

He sat and looked up complaining, "I want you to look at what I've been reduced to!"

For some reason the complaint flew over me. We had been through so much in that past 6 months and so many friends, family members and I had worked hard at maintaining a positive, hopeful attitude.

I snapped at him, "Jerry D.! You need to jump back and count your blessings!" I searched my mind for a quick one and continued, "For one thing you have a wife who absolutely worships the ground you walk on!" (In that mental split-second I thought, "Gee Kel, you're the best you could do?")

He grinned at my reflection in the mirror, "Yeah, I do, don't I?"

Since he died, I've treasured that moment. I know, he knew. No regrets.



This morning, on Facebook I noticed a friend of mine posted the audition performance by Kevin Skinner from Mayfield Kentucky from Youtube. Of course he's a favorite among my Facebook friends: a home-state boy. I had been seeing posts about him but hadn't really paid attention: Deat and I had turned off the cable television years ago, so I don't follow TV phenomena very closely, but decided to at least check out the video.

Here's a link to the clip: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LqhbAZXB6JM

He sang "If Tomorrow Never Comes." and in light of Sabrina and my conversation last night, a flood of emotions washed over me. I was pleased for the Kentucky-Pick when the judges praised his performance, but as he was walking off-stage I was struck again, and tears started rolling. The background song was "I'll Be".

"I'll Be" was our song. It came out around the time Deat and I got together, and it brought back many memories. I always loved the lyric, "I'll be, the greatest fan of your life."

So yes, I cried this morning, but not in mourning. I had a moment to celebrate what we had. Yes, Deat was very popular and had a strong following in his radio and television days, but for all the accolades, it still came back to me.

I fulfilled that promise I sang to him way back in the day.