Nancy determined before she left the house that she would not show anyone how she felt. She would not cry or be upset. She would not display emotion. Consequently, everyone could tell there was something wrong. While she never was a touchy-feely type person, she was very personable and genuinely cared about others. Therefore, everyone who knew her was aware of the tightness in her demeanor.
The teller at the bank noted it but didn’t say anything since it was a busy time of day. The waitress at the restaurant noticed Nancy didn’t jump right into their normal give and take. She always said, “What can I get you today?” Nancy would reply, “Anything that looks wonderful, tastes better, and doesn’t have a calorie to be found.” Instead, Nancy mumbled that she wanted a club sandwich. However, due to the lunch rush, all the waitress could say was, “You missed your cue.”
Nancy made it through the day with no one questioning her about the way she felt. Meanwhile, she was dying inside. Her Jack was dead and there was no one to share it with. She felt like a Coke bottle that had been shook but there was no way she could release any of the pressure. The lid was tightly clamped on.
At home that night, Jack’s brother John was in a foul mood. He wasn’t happy with supper and complained about teachers at school. He didn’t want to do dishes or take out the trash. Would he EVER learn to hang up his jacket when he came home? She started the night being very patient with him but her fuse was very short and, soon enough, she let him have it. In a loud voice, she told him what an ungrateful wretch he was. If he felt he could do better on his own, please feel free to move out but remember to leave the cell phone since he doesn’t pay for it anyway. But she knew he wouldn’t move out because he lacked the ambition to go out and get a job. He’d prefer to freeload his way through life.
Needless to say, John was a little startled by the severity of the verbal attack. Mostly, he was hurt. After the explosion, Nancy went to her room and sobbed uncontrollably. John went to his mother and, knowing something was bothering her, quietly asked what was wrong. Between deep breaths, she haltingly replied it was nothing she could share yet but she would tell him as soon as she could.
How could she tell John his brother was dead? The two boys had been close. Sure, they fought like cats and dogs but heaven help the kid that ever said anything bad about Jack’s little brother. Jack used to say about John, “No one can pick on him as long as I’m alive. That’s my job.” The thought of that statement made her smile a little but it also broke her heart since Jack was dead.
The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. Nancy looked at the caller ID and saw it was Charlotte. Oh, she did not want to answer but the two of them had not spoken for a couple days. Charlotte was bound to think something was wrong. Then again, something was wrong. Hesitantly, she picked up the phone. Charlotte noticed right away that Nancy had been crying. She simply said before any conversation could begin, “I’m coming over.”
The two ladies sat quietly alone for a few minutes. Charlotte was dying inside wondering what it was. It was about Jack. She was sure of it. John was in his room listening through the walls as best he could. Finally, Nancy let it all out. She related everything about how she woke up, her thoughts of calling Charlotte in the middle of the night, the bible verse, even the fortitude she tried to have that day. The two hugged and cried.
Charlotte told her that any time there is news about Jack, good, bad, or otherwise, she wanted to know about it. Nancy called John into the room and related everything to him. Together, the three of them were determined they would get through this. They hadn’t heard from the military about Jack so it really was all speculation. Still, Nancy was certain in her heart something was wrong. They all decided to trust God in the matter and continue praying. John had the final word of the night when he said that he recently learned something at his youth group that he felt was applicable. Shared sorrow is half sorrow. Shared joy is double joy.
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