Mrs. Lee’s Story
“Mrs. Lee, I believe you have some words to say about the dearly departed.”, said the funeral director as he invited Mrs. Lee up to the podium to speak. The petite, elegant widow walked slowly to the front of the small chapel and calmly began her eulogy.
“I am not going to sing praises for my late husband. Not today. Neither am I going to talk about how good he was.” Mrs. Lee’s eyes flashed.
“Enough people have done that here.” She took a deep breath, allowing the air to fill her lungs before she continued. “Instead, I want to talk about some things that will make some of you feel a bit uncomfortable
Several people stopped fanning themselves and sat up a little straighter. “First off, I want to talk about what happened in bed.” She paused dramatically, shifting her weight from side to side. “Have you ever had difficulty starting your car engine in the morning?” She carefully studied the faces about the room. With a loud, grinding sound, she snorted and rumbled, violently shaking her tiny frame.
“Well, that’s exactly what David’s snoring sounded like.” A cough rose up from the center of the audience. “But wait,” she continued. “Snoring wasn’t the only thing.” “There was also this rear-end wind action as well. Some nights it was so forceful, it would wake him up.” A child giggled into her hand while her red-faced mother stifled a grin.
‘What was that?’ he would ask.
‘Oh, it’s the dog,’ I would say. Patting his back and smoothing the covers, I would urge him to go back to sleep.” She touched her hair as if remembering the way her hands felt as they placed themselves on her husband’s gasping body. “Oh, you might find this very funny,” Mrs. Lee offered the whisper of a smile.. “But when his illness was at its worst, these sounds provided comfort and proof that my David was still alive.”
Silence washed over the room. Even the birds outside seemed to be listening. Mrs. Lee looked heavenward as her voice began to crack.
“What I wouldn’t give just to hear those sounds one more time before I sleep.” A single tear wandered down her face, landing noiselessly on her lapel.
“In the end, it’s these small things that you remember the little imperfections that make them perfect for you.”
“So, to my beautiful children,” Mrs. Lee swept one hand toward the front row, “I hope that one day you, too, will find yourselves life partners who are as beautifully imperfect as your father was to me.”
Mrs. Lee’s eloquent tribute to her husband left the entire audience in tears. With just a few heartfelt words she summed up the mystery and magic of a lifelong marriage built on the foundation of love, imperfection, and acceptance that knows no bounds.