After 62 years of marriage, Dad has lost his beloved wife.

We bury Mom tomorrow.

He’s beside himself. Although she’s been declining in a nursing home for the past year, he was there every day, visiting with her.

Now he doesn’t know what to do.

His daughters are nearby, and have been here for him in every way possible.

His son and I are here for a week, trying to take care of him the best that we can.

He’s 84 with a strong work ethic. He put a lot of that into caring for his beloved over the past few years as the dementia slowly took hold. After 50 years of her strong maternal presence holding it together, the last ten years have been losses by degree.

He doesn’t know what to do.

We have taken him to the store, out to eat, to the funeral home. The grand kids and great grand kids are coming over today, sure to bring a smile to his face.

At night, though, the sleep doesn’t come. He sits at his desk and stares during the day, jumping up to compulsively vacuum, only to fall asleep in his recliner minutes later.

He talks about Mom and we share stories. Memories lead to more memories.

The little things that have been over looked in his stress and exhaustion are seen by my husband, and he takes care of them – putting new fluorescent light bulbs by the half dozen in the kitchen and garage. Replacing batteries. Fixing the perilous garage step. Making meals for him to last for the next couple of weeks.

My husband talked to the friends at church, imploring them to take Dad out, make him participate, get him out of the house. They assure us they will.

Tonight and tomorrow we say goodbye to a wonderful Mom.

We will drive south, states away, praying for Dad every mile.

Lord, take care of Dad- and all the little things that add up to so much loss.