My daughter asked me why I never write about what  is happening to me right now.  I have told you before that the reason is, that I don't "get it" when I'm going through things. I just endure.

But I will tell you that today was one of the saddest that I've had.  The DVD of the Arlington service came.  (I will get it posted soon)  While I went through the last two years watching Ken deteriorate, I was just determined to do the best job I could of taking care of him.  We both knew he wasn't going to live much longer.   It is a terrible thing to watch.  Maybe I just put sadness on the shelf.  There wasn't any point.  It was what it was.  So we lived in the joy that we had.  We took rides in the country.  We worked crossword puzzles.  We lived in the moments.  The last moments of fifty-seven years.

And when he was gone last November, I wanted the service (that we had here in Pryor) to honor him.  I wanted everyone to see something of the life he had lived before he had retired from the Marines. My son helped me put it together and it was wonderful.  I was elated that we had given Ken the respect and dignity he deserved.  I guess I was too tired to be "in the moment" of sadness at that time.

And then there was a four month wait before he could be interred at Arlington National Cemetery last month.  March 20th. The ceremony was a thing of awe.  I knew it would be big, but had no idea it would be that huge.  Marine band, caisson, horses, more horses, hundreds of men in uniform.  It was overwhelming.  The presentation of the flag in honor of his service to his country.  One by one the Marines knelt to thank me.  And I hadn't even done anything but be his wife.  What an honor to be his wife.

Then we waited a month for the film of the ceremony to arrive.  It came today.  I watched it and sadness engulfed me.  It was over.  Everything I needed to do had been done, the last piece of a puzzle in place.  As I watched the film,  I was struck by the shortness of a life.  All the memories.

Here was a man who had a life well lived.  He loved God.  He loved Christ and his sacrifice on the cross.  He loved the church that Christ died for.  He loved people.  He loved the Marine Corps.  He loved his children.  He loved me.  And now he is gone.  I am so sad.  It is now over.  There is nothing left for me to do for him but wait.  And write.  Now I can look back and tell you about it.  Like my daughter said, I live in the past.  I just try and get through the moments.  I will keep doing that.

 I will see him again.  And then there won't be an end.  Ever.