Hot Husbands in Heaven

I had plans to write on something completely different today, but this one keeps showing up. So I'm listening. 

I'll preface this by informing you I'll be writing about Heaven. I'm no expert & what pours out of my heart are just lovely thoughts living in my head. I'm not interested in fact checking what I'm about to say. 

My husband didn't get to grow old & grey. 45 years was simply not enough time. 16,606 days to be painfully accurate. I was planning on at least 10,000 more.

The first months of my grieving were spent in complete denial, and feeling like the poster-child of unfairness as I looked around and saw everyone else still had their husbands & comfortable existence.

Until I started meeting other women like me. 

I can't backtrack and tell you how our paths crossed. They seemed to just steadily sprinkle into my life by chance, like a slow, gentle rain.

They were the gifts I never knew I needed. 

When I get quiet, I think about Geoff in Heaven. I wonder about the human-ness of it all. 

• Does he get dressed everyday? Is he wearing a flannel shirt, because he loved a sturdy flannel. 
• Does he have a favorite fishing spot? 
• Heaven naps in hammocks, cause he would be so into that!

The picture below of Geoff is EXACTLY how I picture him enjoying Heaven. I do not have another image that perfectly captures his essence, and I just love it. 

My life's table is now full of other women like me...living newly rearranged lives because their husbands now live in Heaven, too. So I started thinking.

I love the idea of there being a “Husbands Club” up in Heaven. All these wonderful men- earthly lives cut short with beautiful, grieving families left behind. Heaven is full of men just like Geoff.

I envision Geoff living his best life- is it called a life up there? Anyhow…he’s taking walks in the green, damp woods, he’s watching the sunset, he’s throwing the ball for Walter, our dog. He’s visiting with his grandparents, and my dad. When I allow myself to think about Geoff up in Heaven, I'm never sad. I smile, and there's a peace that blankets me.

Geoff has been meeting all these insanely cool guys…guys who exited life because of plane crashes, cancer, accidents, any number of unfortunate events. Up in Heaven, they are ending days- maybe with a glass of whiskey- and stories about their beautiful girls…and terrific kids. And these men…they are all smiling, because they witness us mending the massive hole left behind, clawing for progress and shreds of joy. Pride fills that heavenly space.

And I believe the husbands are behind the scenes…pulling some very important strings. In the husband's club;

• Geoff meets Adam, a pilot. He knows his wife's truth-talking will pull me out of some dark spots, so Kerri shows up. 
• Geoff meets Kyllion, a police officer. He knows helping his wife through the early days of widowhood will heal me in ways I can't understand. Tammy appears in my life. 
• Geoff meets Bradley- a farmer. He learns about his wife's humble, quiet strength and knows it's just what I need. Lauren is delivered to me.
• Geoff meets Bobby- a fellow pancreatic cancer brother. They swap stories and high-five over their wonderful wives. They know their similar stories will ease the loneliness of their shared grief. Chalyce appears soon after. 

The list goes on. Geoff is up there conspiring with the likes of Jodi, Michael, Jeff, Collin, Bryan, Dan, Ryan, Pat, Dave, Abel...and I could not love it more. 

The absence of these husbands is Grand Canyon enormous, and the friendships that have bloomed in the cracks of their wives' unsteady lives is nothing short of miraculous. 

You see, these men are still helping, protecting, & very much loving their women long after their lives stopped. I will not believe I met these women by coincidence or chance. I stopped believing in that the moment Geoff got sick. 

Nothing is accidental. 

And up in Heaven, amidst the swapped stories, these hot husbands are holding space for us...making plans. They are cheering big, and I believe, know exactly how life is going to unfold for all of us. They know about the new love, the marriages to be celebrated, the houses bought and sold, the babies to be born, the triumphs and the devastation that will mark our lives in their absence. 

And one by one, we will see our men again. And what I envision...gosh, I hope it's true. I think about all these husbands I've only known through their wives profound stories...I will get to wrap my arms around these men and say this;

Thank you.

Thank you for the gift of your wife's friendship. Thank you for sending her with perfect timing. That friendship built me into the woman who stands before you. She loved me through the difficult. She helped me stand on my feet again. She cheered when others didn't. She is one of the best people I know. 

I will wait a long time for that hug, because I'll be living a long, special life down here. But when my time comes, I think about something else;

Some of my widow sisters may beat me to Heaven, and we will get to rejoice and celebrate WITH THOSE HUSBANDS we mourned together. But if I get there first, girl, I'll be right there when you arrive, because I want a front row seat to that reunion we have all been dreaming about. 

If you are still reading this, know that your person is likely sprinkling just the right people into your life, too. Be receptive, because every person the husband club sent to me has been a total surprise. 

A lovely, unexpected, serendipitous surprise. 

I'm closing by giving credit for this blog title to my widow sis, Chalyce. She coined the term #hothusbandinheaven. When we became friends, I loved this hashtag, and when I began writing this post, I knew it needed this title. Thank you, Chalyce. I think it's a perfect fit. 

And to the many women who became my friend because we share dead husbands, may we continue to link arms and search for the beauty, the silver linings, the signs, and the love that this second act will deliver. May we grow old and grey together, and then do it all again up in heaven with those spectacularly hot husbands of ours. 

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