The Maestro

Like almost every widow/widower I know, I question every part of my faith.

Heaven. Hell. Angels. God. Satan. Afterlife. Ghosts.

Amazingly to some, I do still believe in God but I do not think He is not at all who/what I thought He is.

Or what was explained to me since birth.

But something far beyond our comprehension and understanding.

And my definition of heaven and what it looks like? I am not so sure.

What happens to our souls when we die? I am really not sure.

And what I wonder about a lot is if Roger's soul/energy/whatever is still with me.

Is still on earth somewhere.

Can still influence things.

If he can play the maestro at all in what happens to me.

Roger promised to always take care of me when he gave me that savings bond.

In our wedding, we did this special part of the ceremony called the arras.

And like I mentioned the other day, he promised to always be here with me.

And some weird part of me thinks he is still around somewhere helping things get done the way they are suppose to in order to take care of me.

His energy.

His ghost.

His whatever.

Two side but related stories-

First, last September, a friend of mine was talking to me at my house.

I was talking about (even just a few weeks from his death) how I was scared of having to go through the dating process again.

How could I be so lucky again? I had an amazing husband and best friend.

Would I have to wait years and years again? I dated a lot of crappy people before Roger.

She is a spiritual person and stated that she thought Roger would find me someone and bring to me another person to be with me.

That Roger would take care of me.

Even from beyond.

Second, earlier this year, one evening I longed to be held on my couch as I watched television laying down.

I prayed to be held.

To lean up against someone with their arms around me.

To feel their warmth behind me.

To be gently kissed.

I cried.

I felt so incredibly alone.

So very alone.

An emptiness that I cannot even find words to fully describe.

Last night, Mr. X was over.

We were watching one of my favorite movies.

I got up to get something to drink.

When I returned, he was laying down on the couch.

He gestured for me to lay down next to him.

So as we laid there with his body heating my back and his arms wrapped around me, I started to relax.

And then I started to cry.

And cry.

And cry.

And then sob.

Was it Roger still providing for me?

Playing maestro so that I got what I needed.

Is he still here?

Helping prayers get answered.

Whoever the maestro may be, I am thankful.

I am thankful that someone is taking care of me.

Just not sure who.

Or what. Just some maestro I am sure.