My Lonely Heart Will Never Heal

sleeping, rest, indoors-8069136.jpgMy Lonely Heart Will Never Heal.                                            June 2005


     My husband, Buddy, called the doctor to get the results of his biopsy. His voice trembled when he talked. “I’m calling,” he said, “to get the results from my autopsy.” 

“No,” I whispered, “your biopsy.” God knew we needed a laugh.


     We had been building our own home, together, for many years. He had retired and we kept working,

looking forward to the day we could also retire our tools. Plans were made to get away, travel, and enjoy life. Then, with no warning, BOOM! Pancreatic Cancer invaded our lives and it was no laughing matter.

One day, while alone, I felt God speak to me, not out loud, but in my spirit. “I’m going to take him,” I thought He said, “and you’re going to be OK.” Sobs ripped through my soul. I don’t want to be OK. I want my husband. 


     But God had other plans. Thus began a life of days filled with tests, trials, and waiting.

Buddy had always been a quiet, loving, and patient man with a great sense of humor. His diagnosis changed him into a man with eyes that were cold, hard, and glaring. He tried to pick fights and snapped at me. But, I understood. Underneath it all, he was SO afraid.

Years earlier, when we had only been married for a few months, I felt like something was missing. Buddy asked me, “What’s missing?”

“I don’t know what it is, but something missing.”


      After the trial that forced us to our knees, we discovered what was missing. The Lord. We admitted that we were sinners, prayed, told God that we were sorry, and asked for forgiveness. We invited Him to take control of our lives.

The Lord changed us that day, for all eternity. Neither one of us ever regretted our decision. We attended church together, up close to the end. Buddy was no longer able to go inside because of medical issues. But, he insisted on driving me there and he waited in the car. He was free to drive to the nearest gas station with a change of clothes. When the service was over I’d find him waiting in the car, maybe asleep. I’d wake him gently, then we’d talk about the sermon all the way home.


     And then, eighteen L O N G…months after the devastating news, the doctor recommended Hospice. Buddy was terrified. He couldn’t face the doctor, female doctor, secretary-1703644.jpgend.

Although he knew he had cancer, he couldn’t accept the fact that he was going to die. “If I get worse,” he said, “I don’t want to know. Promise you won’t tell me? I don’t want Hospice taking care of me either. I don’t want the Death Watchers anywhere by me.”

I found myself digging for tissues just watching him sink deeper into himself every day. He didn’t even want to watch television.

Please God, I prayed, help him so he’s not afraid to die.


     I had to trick him into letting Hospice come. “I won’t get Hospice,” I said, “but I will need someone to help out. How about if I call in a registered nurse?” He agreed. I think he knew what I was up to, but by pretending that he didn’t he could accept the situation. The kind and loving Hospice nurses were a Godsend.

One morning Buddy woke up with a new gleam in his eyes, unlike anything I had witnessed for several months. He took me completely by surprise when he said, “I’m going to heaven!”


     I was speechless. For a quick second, my breath was suspended. “Oh, you think you are?” I stammered.

“I KNOW I am,” he said with a strong, secure voice. “An angel came into my room last night. He stood at the foot of my bed and held his arms out. He was a very large male angel. He wore a long white robe. I felt such POWER in the room, like nothing I’d ever felt. I looked at him and said, ‘I’m not ready yet.’ The angel smiled a beautiful white-toothed smile, then turned and walked away. I’ll be going to heaven in two weeks.”

Buddy seemed calm and content. Something wonderful had happened to him. His whole countenance had changed. His face seemed to glow.

“Are you afraid?” I asked.

“No,” he said.

With tears and a joyful heart, I whispered, Thank you, God.


     Buddy slept in a small bed from Hospice. “Hey, Precious,” he said, “Will you lay down with me?”

“You don’t have much room in that bed, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not going to hurt me, Angel Face, and I need you. Come over here, please?”

So I climbed into the small bed and snuggled up beside him. He wrapped his weak little arms tenderly around me. Oh, that familiar after-shave. I had desperately missed lying in his arms, it had been SO long. I was afraid of hurting him, but nothing had ever felt so comfortable and good. He agreed. His worried expression was gone. His face looked peaceful as he talked, and he was full of questions about heaven.

“What if I can’t find my way around there? What if I get lost?”


     “You don’t have to worry about that. “The instant you get there, everything will feel like home. You’ll get to see Jesus face to face. Your mother and my mother will be there. They’ll probably get together and make one of the

 famous meals that you always loved. Your dad will be there, and you’ll get to see him for the very first time since he died when you were only five months old. Your sisters and brothers, and my brother, Rodney, will be there waiting to welcome you home and show you around. Jesus has prepared mansions for over 2000 years, and yours is finished. You won’t have to worry about drywall, or anything else about building, ever again.”

I kissed him on the cheek and felt his tears mingle with my own. Neither one of us had to move. We didn’t have to change positions. The telephone never rang, and neither one of us needed a bathroom break. We talked about nothing except heaven, for the entire time. That was truly God’s special blessing to both of us.

“I’ll be waiting for you, Precious, and I’ll carry you over the threshold of the heavenly portals.”


     When I finally climbed out of his little bed, three-and-a-half hours later, I felt like I could almost float. There was such a tremendous relief from the pain that had surrounded my heart. I could hardly wait to tell the kids everything their dad had said.

After telling our son, Trevor, about his dad’s visit from an angel, I asked him. “What do you think about that? Do you think he’s just been on too much medication or something? Or do you think he really had a visit from an angel?”

“Well, he said, “Dad was never a person to make things up, so yes, I believe him. I think it happened, just like he said.”

How could I ever doubt that God had answered my prayer? The Bible does promise that God will send guardian angels to protect us during life, and then He will send an angel to carry us home.


     When I told the nurse what had happened she said, “He will never last for two more weeks. I don’t know how he even lasted this long.”

Buddy’s humor returned and he seemed almost like his old self. The Hospice staff went out of their way to give Buddy anything he wanted. 

“Is there anything you’ve always wanted to do, but haven’t been able to? Is there anything you’d like to see or do, or have?”  They asked him.

“Well,” we did order some carpet for the living room,” he said, “that we were going to have delivered so we could do it ourselves. I’d like to see that installed.”

Hospice sent men to pick up the carpet then men came for

the installation.

With the carpet finished, Buddy told them he’d like to see the trim in the living room completed. Two men came and finished all the trim. Then he told them he’d love to see the drywall up in the master bedroom.

“We’ll see what we can do,” they told him.”


     Buddy called me into the bedroom and then whispered in my ear. “I’m trying to get the house finished for you, Angel Face.”

Our son came over to admire all the improvements. His dad pointed them out from his bed we had moved to the living room. “Hey, nice huh?” His dad proudly exclaimed. “Is there anything that you need to have done at your house? Do you want to borrow me?”

The Hospice lady asked Buddy if he’d like someone to come over and give him a massage.

“Only if my wife can get them too,” he said. They agreed, but I didn’t want to bother them. They stopped by every couple of days and gave Buddy a massage, gently, on his frail little body. He’d tell them, “Well, that was a good rub.”


     Soon thereafter, the nurse called me aside, “I hate to have to tell you this, but Buddy is in a coma. You’d better call in all the family to say goodbye.”

Heartbroken, I called our pastor and told him. “I’m on my way,” he said.

Before the pastor arrived, Buddy came back to us, opened his eyes, and was talking. Our pastor arrived and before we could say anything, he went in to see Buddy. He came out looking wide-eyed.

“I don’t know what they told you,” he said, “but THAT” S, not a coma.”


     This happened several times and Buddy amazed all of us. The Hospice nurse kept saying, “This just doesn’t happen. They don’t do that. He keeps going and going. I’ve never known anyone like that with a pulse so low who was still alive. We’re going to call him the energizer Buddy.”


     He woke up one morning with a surprised look, “I’m still here?” He said.

Whenever we asked him what he needed, he always pointed up, and said, “Heaven.”

Suddenly, I was hit with the full force of reality. I was going to lose my husband. “Oh God,” I cried, “I can’t do this, I just can’t.”

God seemed to say, “I’ll help you.”

My overwhelming sadness faded. I was back at Buddy’s bedside. He was weak but still hanging on as he hovered between this world and the next.

He had been in and out of consciousness but he suddenly spoke two words, very clear, “Dad! Dad!”

I leaned over and kissed him on the lips. “I love you,” I said. I could feel his lips as he tried, with what little strength he had, to kiss me back. He could only mouth the words, “I love you too.” Then immediately he was gone. Exactly two weeks after his visit from the angel.

If we could have gotten a peek into the unseen world I’m sure we would have seen the angel standing at the foot of the bed again, with his arms stretched out. Only this time Buddy would have said, “I’m ready now.”


     Although pain and sadness filled my heart, God gave me the peace

that passes all understanding. He sent many people into my life who helped with my grief. One day, in church, I was crying. Something told me to look up. When I did I caught a quick glimpse of Buddy and I heard him say.  “Don’t cry, Angel Face.”

Another night Buddy came to me in a dream. Not in the body that cancer stole from him. Not the body with the speech impediment that he had dealt with since birth. His voice was crystal clear and sounded awesome. He looked young, handsome, and healthy again.

God’s word is true. He is near to the brokenhearted. He used many people and situations to comfort me. Day by day my heartache was eased.


     I found joy again after My Lonely Heart Started to Heal.


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