The Certainty Of Love

I will never forget the moment when I knew for certain my husband had really changed, and our life together was worth salvaging. Years of abuse fell away at that instant, never to be revisited in action or mind. The labor on his part was solitary, as was my viewing of it.
I drove home down a lonely back road after midnight shift at the nursing home, my mind filled with tumbling thoughts inspired by the winds of change. Halfway through my trip I noticed a large wooden sign, hanging on a power pole next to a corn field. It had one word painted in bright red, one letter screaming out from a stark white background. It said simply, I.
Looking down the road I noticed signs hanging on the next three poles. I streched, rubbed tired eyes, then gazed absentmindedly at the second bright red word. It said simply, LOVE.
Smiling at the unexpected message, mind full of curiosity about the last two signs I drove faster to reach the next one. It said simply, YOU.
I laughed out loud, heart full of joy for whoever loved someone enough to broadcast it next to a very well traveled road. Wishing someone loved me like that I drove on toward the last sign. But half way there I stopped the car, tears made it impossible for me to see the road, yet I had no trouble reading the bright red letters, hand painted on the last sign. It said simply, GLENDA.
Those signs hung next to that road all summer long. I was asked dozens of times if I was the Glenda, and glowed with pride at every yes. I guess it was the farmer that finally took them down, because they came up missing at harvest time. But in my mind they hang there still, a fitting testimony to the awesome power of love.
Jerry is gone now too. We enjoyed ten years of real friendship and unconditional love before his death. His change was not instant, though; my rebirth occured in October of 1993, and the signs did not go up until the following summer. The greatest gift I ever recieved was handmade from scrap lumber, left over paint, and reawakened love. And happily ever after began for me on that lonely back road leading home.