Lock the doors, turn on the porch light

Shut the windows when you hear lawn mowers

Open the wood stove slowly

Clean anything and everything with gloves

Do not respond to unknown text notifications

Wash the knives and cutting board

Stop completely before shifting gears

Don’t pull the plug by the cord

Moms and dads teach us the basics.  Husbands take it from there.  Just like parents’ automated voices (look both ways, don’t talk to strangers) managed to get us to adulthood, a husband’s voice lives in our minds, adding details to the basics, updating precautions, and just plain teaching what we never learned.

I hear a husband’s voice.  It says, get the widowmakers trimmed, change the filters, do not post your social security number.

It says, I love you, Kath.  Listen and pay attention to what I said, what I did.  These will protect you and get you to Heavenhood.

I often ask, what would Bill do?  And I hear, buy the gas detector, keep big chunks out of the garbage disposal, read the directions. This husband may not live here, but his voice does. His voice counsels me, keeps me safe, smarts me up.

I’m thankful for a husband’s voice. It lives in me. I’m listening.