Trading Grief for Grace

It was a crisp cold day in December 1987, the thirteenth day of the month. The sun was shining brightly, and there was no moisture in the air. It was a Sunday, usually I would have been getting ready for church that morning, but instead, I was getting ready for my wedding. Carl T. Alexander and I exchanged wedding vows that day before God, our children, relatives, church family, and friends.Fast-forward 32 years and nine days. It was a crisp cold day in December 2018, the twenty-second day of the month. It was the perfect day for a little Christmas shopping, getting together with friends, doing a little this or that for the weekend. I hadn’t planned for guests that day, yet my house was bustling with activity, full of people I invited to our home, all perfect strangers.The irony is that I am usually the perfect host, but once they arrived, I didn’t know what to do. So, I moved out of the way and gave them free rein as they, the Richmond EMTs, worked feverishly to try and revive my husband, Carl, who had collapsed a few minutes earlier.The same sun that shone so brightly 32 years ago when Carl, my Big Daddy, and I exchanged vows was still shining just as brightly that day. Except for this time, we didn’t exchange vows; instead, Carl exchanged locations when he died of cardiac arrest at 11:14am. on Saturday, December 22, 2018. Read more