I have always been very transparent with people – I am not high maintenance, but I am a princess.

Over the course of our 45-year marriage, we never had “his or her” jobs because we were a team. Early on, we grocery shopped together, took turns cooking (yes, I did cook once), and divided and conquered household chores as needed. Those jobs changed through the years with the arrival of children, extracurricular activities, and employment changes.

Somewhere along the way, Chuck took over all the cooking, which was really a blessing. What he created from leftovers was better than my “from scratch” endeavors. With that came his solo trips to the grocery store. He said my cart skills, or lack of, were slowing him down. He was a matter-of-fact shopper, not a leisurely one.

It didn’t end there. Chuck voluntarily washed and waxed my car regularly until he was physically unable to do so. Then he took it to the car wash each week when he filled the tank with gas. When it snowed, Chuck warmed up my car and cleared it off. He did laundry, vacuumed, cleaned the bathrooms, and much more, all to make my life easier and keep the house running smoothly.

Many of my friends were envious of my enchanted life and reminded me how spoiled I was. I never took it for granted, and I often thanked Chuck for doing all those niceties for our family.

Now, I am responsible for myself and all of those tasks Chuck so lovingly did for me. Now, I have to decide what to eat for dinner and order groceries for pickup. Now, I pump my own gas and try to remember to warm up my car on these colder mornings. There is a growing list of things that Chuck took care of that were never on my radar, but now need my attention.

Some days it all seems overwhelming, but I will get the hang of it and make it work because that’s what Chuck and I always did – faced things head-on together. We will always be a team, and I will always be a princess because Chuck will always be my prince.

When Chuck was in the hospital and still able to communicate verbally, we had a funny interaction. He kept leaning to the right, almost lying against the bed’s safety rail. I would help him move toward the left and reposition himself in the center of the bed. An hour or two later, we would repeat the process.

After a couple of days of this dance, I asked Chuck why he thought this kept happening. He looked at me seriously and said, “Because you are a magnet, and I am steel.” His hazel eyes were giving me that mischievous look of his. (I usually sat to his right to be out of the way of the nurses when they came in to take vitals or replace fluids.)

FASTFORWARD
October 17th was my first day back to work (half-day). I got into my SUV and started for school. No sooner had I rounded the corner than two lights flashed on my dashboard. Having no idea what they meant (I just got this vehicle in July), my already heavy heart dropped to the floor. What was I going to do? Usually, I would call Chuck at home to let him know what was going on, but instead, I was left to ponder my options in silence. Luckily, both lights went out before I finished my ten-minute drive to work. I sat in the parking lot, checked the owner’s manual, and then went into school.

I left school around 1:15 to go to a doctor’s appointment. Jumping into the car, I turned the radio on and froze. The radio was tuned to Sirius 16, The Blend, and “Magnet and Steel” by Walter Egan was playing! I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but I remember saying aloud, “Okay, Chuck. I guess you’re telling me you are still here with me, and I can do this.”

If it had not been for those pesky dashboard lights on my way to school, I would have been listening to a book on Audible on my drive in and would not have turned the radio on when I left school in the afternoon. Coincidence or sign from heaven? It was a sign, and I am looking forward to receiving many more from my best friend.