The husband spent most of the day taking his dad to previously scheduled doctor's appointments.
This afternoon, I decided to take the framed photos and pay my own visit. He loves the photos and we had many laughs and tears as we went through some memories.
He was wearing his Unabomber outfit. It made me smile.
Today is Ash Wednesday so I offered to take him to church. He did not feel up to it. So, I offered to smoke a cigarette and smear some ashes on his forehead. (For whatever reason, he finds my humor engaging.) We knelt and said our prayers.
My car must be programmed. It pulled into the nearest Methodist church. It was the middle of the afternoon and the only people were the frantic office people. I have never been in this church in my life but it felt like home. Shouldn't all churches feel that way? I went to the altar, did my business and was leaving when a minister showed up at the door.
(Can't you imagine those office people? 911 to the minister! Solo, crying woman in the sanctuary!)
The very nice minister put the ashes on my forehead. Then he walked me to my car.
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I am so glad you stopped at that church. I am sure it was calling to you, since yours is far & it was iffy that you would have time to run out to the Eastside. You are right, that is how churches should feel. I love that feeling! There is no doubt in my mind that Mike is grateful & full of joy when you walk in his door. You are a ray of sunshine. It was funny that you mentioned the cigarette ashes. Last night, S was changing his mind about running out to church (solo, since A & I went to the 11am service) to get his ashes. I told him to stop giving me excuses, it was his choice not mine. I told him too bad I don't smoke anymore, I could rub some cigarette ashes on his head. Great minds think alike. :)
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