I miss you.

Especially today, because it’s your birthday.

Sometimes my longing to be with you is so strong it grows into an ache that’s hard to handle. One day that longing will melt away, when I travel to be where you are now. That’s comforting.

Two years ago, you and I were still celebrating our birthdays together, an annual double-header. With only 10 days between us, we were the same age 355 days a year. But that calendar has aged me into 66; you locked in at 64. It’s hard to get old without my birthday-buddy.

In August of 2009, cancer wasn’t part of our lives. Mary and Bervin hosted a party for the two of us, remember? And despite ongoing back pain and a mysterious stomach ache, you smiled for the camera.

I never heard you complain about physical pain, not in 43 years of knowing you, but that summer you didn’t feel good. One day you even said you wondered if something other than back problems might be wrong. A month later we found out you were right.

Today I spent time praying about you. Of course you don’t need my prayers in Paradise, but I wanted to thank God for bringing you into my life and for choosing you as my husband, a man who was willing to love me with a 1st Corinthians 13 love as well as to father and support 7 children.

I also re-read journal pages from those days surrounding your birthday two years ago and found something utterly astounding. Your back had become so severe that the highlight of every day had been at 8 pm when you eased yourself onto the bed atop two ice packs placed at the small of your back.

I was concerned about our future, upset by your pain, and worrying about what God was doing (or not doing). So I wrote out a 3 page prayer to him, all about you. Here’s part of it:

Lord, please touch Nate’s body with your supernatural power, I pray. Lift this back misery right out of his life. I cry out to you to bring him to your feet, into your presence, Lord, fully dependent on you.

And that’s where I caught my breath, because that’s exactly what God did! Touched your body… lifted away your pain… brought you to Jesus’ feet… into his presence… dependent on him.

(I bet you’re getting a kick out of this,  probably laughing with joy. Oh how I miss your hearty laugh!)

I know you’re glad I read that journal today and made the God-connection, saw how he’d answered my prayers. Although your departure wasn’t my choice, I want you to know I’m doing ok (partly because I know you’re doing ok). All of the credit goes to God. I don’t know where I’d be without him…

…but I know you can say the same thing.

Happy Birthday, Nate. I love you.

“Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.” (Psalm 90:17)