Husbands (3 stories)

All grieve so differently.
All of us.
And so do our husbands.

~
I remember meeting him at a meeting-
Perhaps there more for his wife than for himself-
Talk?
It appeared to me he didn't know exactly what to say- but he started speaking-
And he held her- so tiny and small in his hands- born far too early- he held her and as his wife lay recovering from a delivery much too fast- much too early- he spent those moments holding his firstborn- a daughter- and looking at her he saw her- her life- flash before his eyes- he saw her as a toddler, awkward steps as she'd learn how to walk- first days of school, awaiting a bus- prom and how nervous she would be awaiting her date- the wedding, walking her down, giving her away- he saw it all- it all flashed before him like a dream- a marvelous, wonderful dream- and then it was gone.
So plainly he said it-
Without much emotion-
But he saw it as he spoke- and we all saw it too-
Tears streamed down the faces of those there that night- mostly by the one who held his hand- the one who carried his daughter- the one who longed to know how he was feeling-
~
~
She felt such a disconnect. He wouldn't talk about her- not really- and every time she brought her up, he would shut down, and the wall began to grow. The bricks stacked up between them grew until she wondered if they'd ever be able to break them down. She began to tuck some money away. What had happened to them? She was so unsure- until the day he came to her- said he wanted to be baptised- why?- because he wanted to see that little girl again- had to- and he wasn't going to take any chances- he wanted to do anything and everything he possibly could to see her- to see her again- And in that moment, the wall that was between them vanished. Perhaps tears? As they held each other in their arms grieving their daughter that was born sleeping- Had he been thinking of her all along- he must have been- but she hadn't known- not until that moment-
~

~
He didn't speak for days- he couldn't- and while he would entertain her questions- his answers were short- he didn't want to speak of him, he couldn't- the pain was too fresh- but the days went on- and the world began to spin and they began to laugh again- live again- they had movie nights- and game nights- and pizza nights- Every Friday they had pizza- and he would get it- even when she offered- no- he would get it- years later she learned he ordered it from the pizza chain that was located in the hospital- so he could visit his garden- see his son's name- talk to him- alone- under their stars- talk to him-
he told me this-
years later.
~

They are all so different- but this I know- they hurt- they ache- they grieve- They grieve for their wives- they grieve for their children- parenting a living child is so very hard- remembering one- honoring one that left too soon is even harder.

Don't forget about them.
I promise you, they haven't forgotten about their children.