One Unbroken Word

One Unbroken Word

Luann Lewis

It's sort of like a monster in the distance. Like when we went to visit Universal Studios, back when Jurassic Park was really popular... they played the sound of dinosaurs tromping, echoing throughout the whole place and getting louder as if a tyrannosaurus rex was approaching. The visitors were supposed to shiver in delighted “fear.” And we did. But now there’s no delighted fear. There’s just anxiety.

I think the phrase, “It’s not if it gets here, it’s when it gets here,” has everybody on edge. It shocks me that folks have bought out face masks and hand sanitizer and toilet paper. But, then again, my first instinct was fear as well. My fear went to a much darker place, though. Someplace that face masks and sanitizer couldn’t reach. I’m sixty­-six years old and my lungs are not in the greatest condition. I ponder whether a fight with this corona virus would leave me dead. It tests my faith. The closer I get to when the “pedal hits the metal,” (in other words ­death) the more I struggle with my belief. At the same time, I can’t seem to not­believe. There’s something inside me that walks through each day, conducting myself the way a believer conducts themselves, organizing my thoughts, my plans, my communications the way a believer does those things. But there is a shaky part that wonders what happens after you die. Even believing, we can’t possibly know the magnitude of what is to come. But, perhaps we’re all wrong, I argue with myself, and there’s nothing at all, just a desiccating body or cremated ashy remains. It was so much easier to believe in a robed Jesus trodding the wide green meadows of heaven when I was young and strong.

it's not if it gets here, it's when it gets here.

And I think about my husband. What would he do if I was gone? What would I do if he was gone? I know it will happen one day but I think both of us believe I will go before him. I am older than him and not as fit. But what if he caught coronavirus and died first? Our names: “LuannandBrian,” spoken like one word at church or with friends, or “BrianandLuann,” one word at his work or with his buddies, “Brian’swife,” “Luann’shusband,” what will happen when that word gets chopped in half? It happens to people who have been married much longer than we have and it will happen to us.

I always imagine him remarrying. He’s the remarrying type. He would be too lonely without someone to come home to and that thought gives me a mixture of comfort and jealousy. I’m also embarrassed to admit that the jealousy gives me a reason to keep living and I chuckle at my own silliness for that particular motivation.

Unlike my husband, I could never remarry. This was it for me. Brian is a kind, patient and optimistic man. He treats me better than I could have ever imagined but it’s hard for me to be married. I like doing what I want to do, when I want to do it. I doubt any other man could put up with me and I don’t think I could put up with any other man. Brian is special. He is a being of light, sunshine and warmth. He is a glow, filled with smiles and patience and good will. Perhaps I am biased and of course I am a little, but I am not the only one who sees him that way. People are drawn to him. Children love him. It’s not just my observation, Brian is special.

So, of course, when I hear that there is a virus out there... a virus that is hard on men, especially older men, it feels like a monster in the distance. I nag him to wash his hands. I watch over him and cringe when he gallantly opens doors for me, reminding him to wash again when he gets to the office. I read everything about this dumb virus and share instructions with him. He thinks I’m overreacting but I don’t want the “LuannandBrian, BrianandLuann,” word to be broken in two. I want those frightening footsteps that are echoing not so far away to pass then fade quietly into the distance. Let that tyrannosaurus rex travel elsewhere. Don’t step on us!

But I’m a believer and I do believe that God has got all those monsters, both the ones nearby and the ones in the distance, under His control. He may allow them to strike even me from time to time but I will just have to remind myself there is only one true word for myself and my husband. Mine is, “JesusandLuann,” and his is, “JesusandBrian.” We’re just blessed right now to be, “JesusandUs.”

Luann Lewis is a Chicago native who has spent the last nineteen years writing legal documents and correspondence, but is now pursuing their Master of Fine Arts. Lewis has over a dozen pieces published in print and online, as well as having one professionally performed by Manawaker Studios.

Photo by Robert F on Unsplash.