All I Ask

Today is the thirty-first anniversary of our wedding. Even the holidays don't rival the depth and breadth of emotions this day brings. Rarely do I publicly expose my deepest yearnings, but today my mind allowed my heart its say.

All I Ask

By Jeff Hargett

I became who I am due largely to her

I found in life what some have sought in vain

But with her gone and me now incomplete

This sorrow I feel will forever remain

I will not get over it nor will I simply move on

Don't say it's time for my mourning to end

My wife was my life and shall always be so

To behave otherwise is to merely pretend

Time is powerless and has never healed all wounds

Nor is it an ointment for mending a shattered heart

There is no salve or balm that heals the soul

Certainly not one so utterly torn apart

No longer shall I apologize for grieving what I've lost

If my tears cause you discomfort just look the other way

I'm coping and adapting the very best I can

And count it a victory when I survive another day

Perhaps I should be stronger. Perhaps you think me weak

Perhaps you think my sorrow is merely one of choice

Remember, some say. Just pray, I've been told too

Why am I not permitted to give my heart a voice

I ask of you no miracles, nor state any demands

It's not a problem that I expect you to solve

Her absence is nothing you or anyone can fix

So of that obligation, consider yourself absolved

This path is mine and its length I'll walk

There isn't anything that you need to say

All I ask of you is this one simple thing

Just hold my hand while I make my way

 

30 Years of Our Journey Through Forever

Myra and I would have celebrated our thirtieth anniversary today. Some might say that thirty years of marriage is a long time, but I say thirty years is just a brief step in our journey through forever.

Below are the two cards I selected to commemorate this milestone in our journey.

Card #1 (envelope)

Card #1 (cover)

 

Card #1 (inside)

Card #2 (envelope)

Card #2 (cover)

Card #2 (inside)

Happy Anniversary, Myra!

An eternity of anniversaries to come.

Sunday Surfing and Deepest Gratitude

Happy Anniversary, Myra.

Please allow me to start this post by conveying my sincerest, deepest gratitude to everyone who has expressed their condolences, thoughts, prayers and sympathies to my family and me over the past two-and-a-half weeks.

You cannot know how much they have helped, especially with so many coming on the same day I had to pick up the death certificates. I'm so grateful to DL Hammonds, Alex Cavanaugh and Al Diaz for their respective roles in making the "Blitz" such a special blessing.

Today is August 4th, our anniversary, the 29-year milestone, and the first with us apart.

I picked up a card to celebrate just as I've always done. Within it, I spilled my heart just as I always have. I'm unable to hand it to her this year and I don't know Heaven's mailing address. I am therefore putting it on my blog. Surely Heaven has wi-fi.

Even through the ache of loss, my love for you remains.

(Click to enlarge)

Now, for the surfing.

Please note that as time progresses, I should be able to raise the quantity of links back up to their original level. I'm still taking baby steps for now. I'm way behind on my visiting, but I do plan to catch up soon.

Two Words Writers Should Avoid

"than I" and "than me"

10 Words That You've Probably Been Misusing

Author Brand in the Age of Indie (Indie Life)

More on Author Branding

Storytelling Across Platforms

28 is a Tough Number

One of the things I love most about Christmas is giving gifts. I enjoy it so much that even I (a typical man who despises shopping) gladly spend hours rummaging through shelves and displays to find toys and games for the grandkids.

It's so easy!

So what is it about twenty-eight, you ask?  Twenty-eight is an important number.  It's the number of years that I've been happily married to the most wonderful woman alive.

And that's the problem.  It's tough!  Think about it for a moment from a husband's perspective.

• 28 birthdays
• 28 Christmases
• 28 Valentine's Days
• 28 anniversaries
• More than 28 Just because I love you days
• And an unspecified number of "I'm sorry" gifts added to the mix.

The problem stems from my need to give my wife something different each time.  I yearn to be original, but originality has become elusive.  Like a writer groping in vain for the truly unique story, this husband gropes in vain for yet another unique Christmas gift for his wife.

And it must be the right gift.  Something she wants or needs.  Something she'll love or treasure.  Something that says "Merry Christmas, honey, I love you" and nothing more.  Trust me, ladies.  Our gifts say nothing else.  Honestly.

We guys simply do not possess the mental capacity to meticulously evaluate every implied nuance of every gift we choose.  It's just not in the DNA.  We're not attempting to project any subliminal messages via the gift; we're just trying to make you happy.

We can't be trained.  Educating us in the finer aspects of gift-giving is futile. Our memories will never retain your dress size and we know better than to ask.  We have no idea what kind of shoes you want or what your favorite fragrance is this month.  And please don't ask us to stand at the cosmetic counter.  The cashiers and assistants only laugh at us.  The jewelry department clerk can't equate our estimation of "about this big" with a ring size.

We've learned that crock pots and vacuum cleaners and steam-press irons are unacceptable, whether you need them or not.  We dare not purchase anything that must fit.  (We have no clue what's in style right now anyway.)

Telling us we should know what you want and like is as helpful to us as assembly instructions written in Swahili.  And spending more time with you, while enjoyable, won't fill our brains with your unspoken desires.  Osmosis doesn't work.  I know.  I've tried.

We guys are more than happy to draft a list of suggestions from which you can choose ours.  We really don't understand why it can't work the other way too.  Please, make it easy on us, ladies.  If we still haven't figured out why you cried or laughed or gave us the silent treatment last month, then what chance do we have with this?

But alas, I shall do as I've done before, as I shall do yet again.  I'll burn three tanks of gas on my quest.  I'll search through endless aisles and malls, eliciting scowls from shoppers, frowns from clerks, and pity from those who share my plight.  I'll ponder and fret until my stomach twists itself into a pretzel.  For love demands nothing less.

And to think, Valentine's Day is less than two months away.