This blog post is long overdue and yet incredibly painful for me to write. I did not choose Mother’s Day to publish it. I chose it only because it was time. I want to honor the man who influenced my life more than any other. This post is for my husband, who passed away last Oct. 25, on my 67th birthday.
I never had a chance to say “goodbye,” Dennie. I was too busy doing CPR, trying to restart your heart and push air into your lungs. I was convinced the Paramedics could bring you back to life when they arrived 10 minutes later. So, I stayed out of the way. I let them do their work even though my heart was breaking. I couldn’t believe you were really gone, even when the doctor in the ER assured me you were. How could I live without you? Breathe without you? How could I go on with the rest of my life without you to shape it? It’s been six months and I’m going through the motions, trying to be strong, showing the world a brave face, but inside I’m hollow and empty.
I will never stop listening for your footsteps on the stairs, Dennie,
Never stop reaching for your hand under the covers,
Never stop wishing you would appear at the living room door in your tux,
Never stop wishing you were sitting on the porch swing beside me,
Never stop feeling that every holiday is less without you here,
Never stop hoping that you are driving every red Silverado I pass.
When you left so suddenly, you took my world with you.
After 45 years, we were one complete person and I am less than half of that now.
I miss dancing in the kitchen.
I miss listening to our favorite songs.
I miss winter nights when we filled the living room with just the two of us.
I miss having you greet me in the driveway when I come home from work,
I miss you sneaking cookies off the cooling rack when they were still hot from the oven.
I’ll miss watching for falling stars on the front porch steps and taking a ride to see the fall leaves with you.
Thank you for your strength,
Your honesty,
Your integrity,
Your steadfast love,
Your friendship,
For showing by example what it means to be a Christian,
For being such a good father and husband,
For encouraging me to never stop writing,
For making sure I always had a good computer to use,
For sticking by me for 45 years.
I am so sorry that you will never have the chance to give your daughters away at their weddings. They love you so much!
I’m sorry you bought an Ultralight but never got to fly it and didn’t get to ride your new motorcycle.
But never doubt that to me – you were my whole world. You fulfilled everything that I ever needed or wanted. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without you and
I will love you forever and ever!
Nancy, I’m so sorry to read this post. I clicked in to visit your site after a long time not checking in to this news. Such sadness to have your deepest love life partner whisked away so suddenly.
with love,
elaine reardon