You Don’t Have to Push All the Buttons

When my husband David and I got married in 2006, we were both widowed. I owned a house; David owned a stand-alone condo. I wanted to sell both residences and buy one that was ours. I’d roll my eyes every time he said, “A condo will be perfect for when we get older.” I didn’t want to think about getting older; I wanted a new house.

Well, it’s been seventeen months since David’s been gone. No, he didn’t run away — he died. The silence still echoes his words, though. Well, not literally, but you know what I mean.

When I grab the TV remote, I can still hear him say: “Sweetie, you don’t have to push all the buttons.”

To which I’d always respond, “Then why do we have all the buttons if we’re not supposed to push them?”

He’d wait patiently until I got frustrated enough to surrender the remote.

In the last year and a half, without him here to coach me, I’ve pushed all the buttons — more than once. Let me tell you, listening to the robotic Screen Reader for days on end [that’s the button which narrates every word and command] can drive a person to the outer limits of madness. 

As for my computer issues, I miss being able to call, “David!” whenever I needed help. He was my ever-ready tech guy who never put me on hold.

I can still hear him ask, “What’s your password?”

Me: “Uh, I don’t remember.”

Him: “Where do you keep your passwords?”

Me: “Um, in a bunch of places.”

I’m pretty sure his questions will keep nagging me until I organize them in one place. I’m okay with that.

Since I live alone now, I talk out loud to God and myself — a lot. I usually get up before the sun and start my day with a question: “So, Lord, what do you have for me today?” I have a cup of coffee and spend time in His Word. When I see daylight slipping through the slats of the blinds, I open them.

Yesterday, I opened the blinds of the French doors to find this mess on my deck and in my yard. “Well, what do we have here?” I asked.

Then, I shook my head and smiled as I remembered my husband’s old refrain:  “A condo will be perfect for when we get older.”

Well, I’m still in the condo, where grass gets mowed, snow gets plowed, and fallen trees get removed with one phone call. After all these months, I feel like David is still taking good care of me. “See, Sweetie, this condo is perfect for when you get older.”