After 27 years of marriage, my husband recently died unexpectedly while lifting weights on a Friday morning.
The moment I found his unresponsive body, chaos entered my life. At the hospital, my son and I sat in a private waiting room. When three medical professionals entered, I knew my husband was gone.
Dealing with the loss has been so hard. But since my husband’s died, I’ve learned some pretty profound truths about death and marriage:
Marriage Truth #1: Death doesn’t destroy a relationship.
When a spouse dies, all the feelings we have for them remain alive and well. That’s why the loss feels so huge: one half of our matrimonial unit still functions, while the other half is strangely silent. At least, that’s what I’ve experienced.
My love for this man, and my commitment to him, still flows strong. Insurance companies and financial institutions can remove his name from our joint accounts, but nothing can remove him from my heart.
Why? Because death means that the relationship we had morphed into something new. It’s my job to discover my new role in that changed relationship, and reconcile my life with his death.
Which leads me to the even more important thing I’ve learned …
Marriage Truth #2: Death means we live in the house that love built.
When a spouse dies, we live with the results of the cumulative effort we put into that relationship. If you fill a marriage with crap, you’re left with a cesspool of dysfunction.
But, if you fill that marriage with the consistent effort of two committed people dedicated to communicating and correcting errors, we’re left with a warm embrace and endless gratitude. That eventually serves as a buffer to the huge loss. It doesn’t make it go away; it just makes the loss a bit more bearable.
When my husband died, we each knew that we were fiercely devoted to one another. We loved each other and enjoyed each other’s company, but we did not have a perfect marriage. We were just two imperfect humans committed to making it work. With remarkable differences, this love and fierce devotion made us perfectly suited for each other.
After more than two decades together, we each learned to take responsibility for our own part of marital challenges. We worked hard to build a solid foundation for our relationship. At various times, divergent religious beliefs, political views, money disagreements, and more serious things huffed and puffed against the house that our love built. But it stood nonetheless, surprising some friends and family.
So, now I’m still living in the solid house that love built. Our children have witnessed our efforts to correct what was wrong and I live with gratitude for the effort we put into our marriage.
What does this mean for your marriage?
If you’re married, you’re living in a house that love built. But like the Three Little Pigs, you have a choice of building materials and the effort expended.
What you choose matters, because the Big Bad Wolf of Relationships huffs and puffs on almost every marriages at some point.
If you ignore problems and take your marriage for granted, the house that love built may not stand stronger that house of straw or sticks.
But, if you each look in the mirror and ask, What needs to change in me? and you each work to make those changes, the house that love built is like one of bricks, safe from the Big Bad Wolf of Relationships.
I lived a love story for almost three decades.
Sometimes it seemed like a fairy tale, and other times we each starred in the other’s nightmare. And that’s okay, because real life love stories are messy.
The husband and wife are imperfect; they struggle individually and together, but if they are equally committed to making the marriage work, the house that love built becomes solid.
And that’s what I wish for you—to live in a solid house that love built. Not out of fear for what death may one day bring, but for the beauty of what marriage can mean while you live it.
What do you think about what I’ve learned? Speak your mind in the comments