The Betty Lou Bridge | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: The Betty Lou Bridge | Previous Challenge Entry
By Lynne Eliason
08/07/08
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The Betty Lou Bridge
The hour had arrived. The stoic husband of 50 years stood on one side of the bed and the cowboy son stood on the other. They gazed down at the woman lying there as she drew her last labored breaths in the bedroom she so loved. She was about to make her journey. Cancer had invaded her earthly body, but her spirit-filled soul was in readiness to greet the face of God.

The hospice nurse, Clarice, moved quietly about the room. She comforted each of them, fluffed pillows and gave medications. She knew love filled this room, but she also knew that the one connection the father and son had was about to leave. This wife and mother, Betty Lou, was their safe passage to each other, their go between, and their sanctuary. God must certainly have a plan here, the nurse thought wistfully.

Ivan, the husband, had tried to avoid this moment as long as he could. He needed his Betty Lou. She knew how to pay the electric bill, cook his eggs just right, doctor a sick colt, calm him with her touch. He reached out and caressed her face, apologetic that she had to go through this. He wanted to hear her laugh, see her feistiness, gaze at her bowed head in prayer.

For the son, David, it wasn’t much different, although he couldn’t bring himself to touch her. He wanted to breath for her. He wanted her to wake up so that he could ask her forgiveness for when he’d kept her up nights waiting for his safe return from a rodeo, forgiveness for those couple of bad checks he’d written, forgiveness most of all for not remembering to trust God in all things. He wanted to thank her for raising him right. She’d made sure he knew how to treat a lady, cook a little and be tough when necessary. He needed her, too. His mother was the one thing that made him accept his father‘s scowls, even when that was all he got from him on a good day.

As Betty Lou exhaled her last earthly air, father and son retreated within themselves. They could not comfort each other. With her gone, it just didn’t seem possible. Their pride would not allow either of them to reach out. Clarice had the urge to somehow force them to acknowledge each other’s grief, but her training had taught her otherwise. It must come from within. She directed the procedures that had been laid in place for months to begin the funeral plans and finally left the house that day praying the two men would find solace together.

In the days that followed, Ivan and David were like two separate islands. They endured hugs from mourners, accepted consoling gifts of food and cards and laid to rest the woman that was their everything. Through it all, saying nothing to each other seemed so much better than saying something that they wouldn’t know how to respond to. David justified living at home for awhile “to be there for his dad.” Ivan was actually grateful for his son’s presence. He just didn’t know how to tell him. Their evenings were idle and long, sometimes neither of them speaking.

A few days after the funeral, Clarice sent a note with a cribbage board to the two men. She’d been praying and a thought had been weighing heavily on her mind. She ended this note by saying, “find common ground with each other to bond and heal.” David read this and pondered. Ivan read this and reflected quietly on his loss.

That evening, Ivan came in from his ranch work tired and sad. He could smell meatloaf. Bless her heart, she’s made my favorite meal. But Betty Lou was not there. David was in the kitchen. There was an awkward moment when neither knew what to say. They ate supper and Ivan had to admit it tasted pretty good, almost bringing a semblance of normalcy to their life. After supper, David set the cribbage board on the table, pleading with his eyes to give it a chance. Ivan thought one game would probably help pass the time. They played cribbage that night and the next and the next. They actually laughed on the third night about how “mama would get a kick out of this.”

God did have a plan. The foundation for their new bridge was being laid.

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