- 2017 (2)
- 2016 (9)
- 2015 (5)
- 2014 (18)
- 2013 (33)
- 2011 (43)
- 2010 (103)
- 2009 (130)
- 2008 (118)
- Chris Fabry
- Married to Andrea since 1982. We have 9 children together and none apart. Our dog's name is Tebow.
Connect with Andrea
Where We Are Now
After finding and remediating mold twice in our Colorado home, we abandoned ship in October 2008. Because of the high levels of exposure, our entire family was affected. After months of seeing different specialists for all of the problems, we came to Arizona to begin comprehensive treatment to rid our bodies of the toxic buildup. In August 2009 we moved into a larger home, four bedrooms, south of Tucson, north of Mexico. I am doing my daily radio program/ writing from that location. Thanks for praying for us. We really feel it.
My Blog List
Sunday, June 3, 2012
4:02 PM | Posted by Chris Fabry | | Edit Post
I let her out at Target. Just to run in and find something.
“I’ll be right here,” I said.
I’ve been saying that for thirty years. “I’ll be right here.”
Except in the past week or so that hasn’t been as comforting. I’m writing another story and living with someone who’s writing a story is like living with a person who has one foot in reality and another in Narnia.
I pulled to the side of the building where I thought there would be shade and parked. I turned on the book I’m listening to, something to cleanse the mental palate.
Wait a minute. If she comes out and I’m not in front, she won’t be able to find me. And it’s 110 in the parking lot.
Relax. She’ll call me. She has a cell…
The phone was next to me. She’d left it in the car.
A few years into our marriage I acquired this ability to finish her sentences, read her mind, figure out exactly what she’d be doing at any point of the day. Now I can’t even figure out what I’m doing half the time. And reading her mind? It was an illusion at best.
I pulled to the front of the store but didn’t have a good line of sight. I pulled into another row of parked cars, then a third. I backed up so I could see the front door better.
I used to be able to anticipate when she’d be done with a task, shopping, going into the school, whatever it was. I would have the kids in the car, sleeping, and I’d pull up just as she walked out the door and she would get in like I was the prince and she was the princess and our timing was perfect.
I looked at the store. People coming and going. Nobody was waiting in the car for them.
I took a breath. It just felt right. I could see her going through the checkout line, signing her name, getting 5% back and feeling good about it. Walking past the Starbucks to the automatic doors.
I put the car in reverse.
And I swear I’m not making this up, on a stack of whatever you want me to swear on, I swear she was coming through the crosswalk with that white bag and the red circles.
She got in.
“Told you I’d be here,” I said.