My neighbor blurts out, "Don't you hate being a spare part?" She should know; she said goodbye to her cancer-filled husband two years ago. 
"Yes, my lovely British friend, oh yes."
Since I was seventeen, I've been part of a duo. I don't even remember solo, but I'm beginning to prefer it over threesome.
I work hard to avoid the latter, but sometimes life gets in the way. And I'm realizing like never before, we live in a couple-oriented world. Pairs trump; pairs sell!
I can't even get through a series of commercials without being bombarded with images of gray-haired couples lounging in outdoor bathtubs or ascending dance floors. (Maybe that says something about my T.V. viewing!)
Presently, I'm wading through the wedding season and learning it is the most difficult of all, again, a front row seat to watch all I have lost. 
I'm not complaining; I'm just observing one more complicated facet of this journey. But I am asking God to remind me of my true identity in Him, how to be courageous and trusting, and to help me thank Him for this unique gift, this opportunity to cling hard and know Christ in an inexplicable way.  
Will this spare part find her significance? I think so...
 Rob had an old Alfa Romeo and I remember how he would cheer when his mechanic secured an obscure part to get the old girl up and running again. Those parts were vital!
Up and running again...sounds awfully good!