My heart is breaking . . .
It is with a sad heart, that I let you know my husband died on Friday, May 3, 2019.
He was only 56 years old. We had been married 25 years this past January.
The death certificate states the cause of death as coronary artery disease, but it is the general opinion of others that it may well have been a pulmonary embolism.
I had gone into the bedroom to tell him that the salad "fixins" were ready and he could come make his salad. I went back into the bedroom twenty minutes later to ask him if he was going to come eat and to tell him I was going for a walk.
He was gone.
Andrew and I met at a single adult function at Second Baptist Church in Houston. He remarked that I talked funny (I had a southern accent and he was from Canada), and I thought he looked like a romantic Frenchman (and no, I did not say so at the time). We married a year and a half later.
Every one of us knows that life can change in an instant, but until we have experienced it, we really don't understand the thin thread of grace that holds our feet to the earth. Within the space of a quarter of an hour, the thin thread holding my husband here snapped. In four hours, I was not planning for a walk around the neighborhood, but planning for life as a widow.
In a matter of a few breaths, my entire world, and the boys, was changed. Forever.
The boys and I are doing well. God has been so very good to us through all of this, and you just know He knew it was going to happen. I am not certain that is comforting or not, but I do remember reading once that one of Mary's sorrows was she "knew" ahead of time the sort of death Jesus would die, and she lived it over and over again before it even happened. I am glad God knew ahead of time about Andrew. I am grateful He has held us up each step of the way. I would not, however, have wanted to know this was going to happen. Not saying a last good-bye, not knowing what someone's last moments were, is hard enough. Having to live that over and again before it ever happened would simply be too much.
Believe it or not, I have been back at writing a bit. For me, writing has always been cathartic. I would rather dwell on someone else's problems than my own. I should be getting back to my routine here shortly, and I am already offering a giveaway this month. It can be found on my home page. As one of my sons so eloquently put it - you can only cry so much, and then you have to get back to living.
And so, we are doing our best to get back to living.
Keep the boys and I in your prayers as we find a new normal, and hug your loved ones tonight. They might not be there in the morning.
Tribute, Crespo & Jirrels Funeral Home, Andrew Scott Porter