A Blue, Blue Day and a Dark, Dark Night

            The matching blue blouse and pants my friend gave me warmed my soul. Even though pantsuits were no longer in style, it was exactly right for me and I could hardly wait to show it off to my husband.

           

Just thinking about him made me feel sad. A recent accident on the freeway had sent the two of us plunging across the crowded freeway. My husband who was driving had swerved to avoid an object in the highway, lost control and flipped us head over teakettle three times before landing on the other side shoved up against the guard rail.

            Although I was untouched except for a bruised arm, I had to be cut out of our car with the Jaws of Life. My husband however suffered a severe cut on the top of his head--he was literally scalped, and his neck was broken.

            This man of mine who loved to drive became a prisoner of the neck brace he had to wear 24-7.  He spent five days in the hospital then we brought him to our youngest daughter's home.  Later we brought him to my eldest daughter's place where there was air conditioning to combat the summer's heat.

            It was a blessing that Bud was able to walk and move with a broken neck.  Beth and I worked together to do what we could to help him gain back his independence. Although we encouraged him to do the exercises the nurse who came to see him twice weekly assigned, he was uncooperative.

            A few month's later we returned to our own home. Still weak from his injuries he spent his days sitting in a chair in the living room. However he boldly proclaimed his freedom to do what he wanted. “If I have to use a walker and not be able drive I'm not going anywhere, and you can't make me.” He said it several times through clenched teeth.

            But blue is his favorite color and I do look pretty, I thought.  I smiled at my reflection in the mirror and smoothed the blue collar into place. I hope he likes it.  He loves blue and he loves me.

            If only I could bring forth a smile from this man I had married so long ago. But as I entered the room where he sat I saw something I'd never seen before. Hatred poured out of his eyes. His hand stretched out like a fan. His lips twisted into a snarl. “Stop” he shouted. “Don't come one step closer.”

            “Bud,” I cried. “I'm your wife. I—I love you.”

            And then I was beside him, heard him say, “Honey, I'm so sorry.  I—I thought you were the German soldier who poked me over and over again in the butt with a bayonet.” And then our arms were around each other.

            Tears came as we wept together.

            Later we talked about it.

            “I don't remember all the details,” he gasped, “but I do remember that the place they took me smelled of urine and vomit and was as dark as a dungeon. They used the whip and the bayonet for hours on my bare back and buttocks. Sometimes they even hit me in the face. But no matter what they did, or what they asked, I refused to give them any information that might incriminate my cell mates, or put our country in danger.”

            Once again his arms went around me. “I'm sorry, so sorry I hurt you. But—but I thought. . .”

            “You thought I was the soldier dressed in blue who tortured you and I understand. Really I do. I'll not wear this outfit again. I promise.”

            I experienced a sense of relief later that day as I folded it and put it in the bag I'd set aside for those in need. Somewhere, somehow my blue outfit would make another woman who needed a touch of a beauty happy.

            A touch of blue. 

            I stood and pushed the curtain aside, then watched in awe as a shaft of sunlight filtered through the trees surrounding our home. For a moment it flashed gold flecks onto the path and suddenly I knew.

 

            In spite of dark days and nights of terror we had God's promise; He who makes all things beautiful in His time would never leave or forsake us. With God we could move forward with confidence and expectation.

            We could do it, one step at a time.