I love you
Karel went on a day trip to spend time with Dawn today. When he got back we ended up having an impromptu discussion about our marriage. I was finally able to tell him some of the things I’ve been stewing on over the last two weeks as I became aware of the extent of everything in my marriage. Letting him know that even if he wasn’t physically doing anything over the last year or so, what he was doing behind my back and online still counted as infidelity.
I’ve been chewing on this over the last week or so, realizing that even with everything I know, I know this isn’t about me, and so I can forgive him. It’s amazing to realize that even after everything, you still would not trade the years you’ve spent together. I like who I am, I like where I am going emotionally and spiritually. I’m discovering that I’m not nearly as dumb as I always considered myself and that I have alot to offer as a woman, wife, and friend, even if it’s not for His sole benefit anymore. But more importantly, I would not be at this point without His part in my life.
I was going to save this story for when our divorce finalized, but I realize that now that I’ve said what I needed to say, this is the best moment for this story.
Life Lesson:
A young man learns what’s most important in life from the guy next door.
It had been some time since Jack had seen the old
man. College, girls, career, and life itself got in
the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country
in pursuit of his dreams.
There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had little
time to think about the past and often no time to
spend with his wife and son. He was working on
his future, and nothing could stop him.
Over the phone, his mother told him, “Mr. Belser
died last night. The funeral is Wednesday.”
Memories flashed through his mind like an old
newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his
childhood days.
“Jack, did you hear me?”
“Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It’s been so
long since I thought of him. I’m sorry, but I
honestly thought he died years ago,” Jack said.
“Well, he didn’t forget you. Every time I saw him
he’d ask how you were doing. He’d reminisce about
the many days you spent over ‘his side of the
fence’ as he put it,” Mom told him.
“I loved that old house he lived in,” Jack said.
“You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr.
Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man’s
influence in your life,” she said.
“He’s the one who taught me carpentry,” he said.
“I wouldn’t be in this business if it weren’t for
him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things
he thought were important…Mom, I’ll be there for
the funeral,” Jack said.
As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught
the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser’s
funeral was small and uneventful. He had no
children of his own, and most of his relatives had
passed away.
The night before he had to return home, Jack and
his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door
one more time.
Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment.
It was like crossing over into another dimension, a
leap through space and time. The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture….Jack stopped suddenly.
“What’s wrong, Jack?” his Mom asked.
“The box is gone,” he said.
“What box? ” Mom asked.
“There was a small gold box that he kept locked on
top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand
times what was inside. All he’d ever tell me was ‘the thing I value most,’” Jack said.
It was gone. Everything about the house was
exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box.
He figured someone from the Belser family had taken
it.
“Now I’ll never know what was so valuable to him,”
Jack said. “I better get some sleep. I have an
early flight home, Mom.”
It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died.
Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a
note in his mailbox.
“Signature required on a package. No one at home.
Please stop by the main post office within the next
three days,” the note read.
Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The
small box was old and looked like it had been mailed
a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to
read, but the return address caught his attention.
“Mr. Harold Belser” it read.
Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open
the package. There inside was the gold box and an
envelope. Jack’s hands shook as he read the note
inside.
“Upon my death, please forward this box and its
contents to Jack Bennett.
It’s the thing I valued most in my life.” A small
key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as
tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked
the box.
There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch.
Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover.
Inside he found these words engraved: “Jack, Thanks for your time! Harold Belser.”
“The thing he valued most…was…my time.”
Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next
two days.
“Why?” Janet, his assistant asked.
“I need some time to spend with my son,” he said.
“Oh, by the way, Janet…thanks for your time!”
“Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away.” - Unknown
Have a great day. Oh, and thank you for your time. : )
