This is one of those days one does not forget. Seventeen years ago late in the night, I became a widow as my husband Sam Thomas died of prostate cancer at Hendrick Hospital in Abilene.
It had been a long day--many visitors lining the halls and coming into the room, Sam slipping farther and farther from us, funny Sam Thomas stories filling the room. As we all took turns holding his hand, students from ACU were praying fervently down the hall. He took his last breath a little after midnight, but we stayed for a while and just gazed at him--seeing the lines of pain diminish and visualizing him entering heaven.
Of course, this is and always will be a sad day; but, it is one that has been assuaged by the passage of time. We still miss him--almost everyday I wish he could have known his grandchildren and Sheryl. He would have been such an indulgent grandfather and so fun for Maddie, Ella and Sam to play with because he never really grew up. He died with that little-boy puckish spirit still intact.
God was so good to have given him to us as a model and guide in Christian living and in having the joy of life present every day. Thank you God for the 30 years we had together and for the son you gave us to enjoy and love.