Heavenly Birthday

Today is my angel baby's Heavenly birthday. Myra would have been 55 today and this would have been her 30th birthday as my wife.

Were she beside me, I'd be ribbing her about speed limits and leaving me in the dust. I'd be taking her out for a night on the town followed by a quiet evening at home. I'd be turning on the charm, giving her winks and probably sneaking a pinch or two while flashing my best grin.

I'd definitely be giving her a tight embrace and cherishing the moment. There'd be a gift or two from me. I'd hand them to her along with my heart.

Happy Heavenly Birthday, Myra!

Card #1 - Envelope

Card #1 - Cover

Card #1 - Inside A

Card #1 - Inside B

Card #2 - Envelope

Card #2 - Cover

Card #2 - Inside A

Card #2 - Inside B

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.

Happy Birthday, Angel Baby

Myra,

As with the card celebrating what would have been our 29th anniversary, I give to you this one celebrating your birthday. And being the well-trained husband that I am, I'll not broadcast your age.

Whether it be by cosmic accident or divine grace, we found each other. From the moment we met, a beautiful friendship evolved. And from that friendship came even more.

2013-12-13 Birthday Card Cover

Within months, I had no dream, no goal that didn't include you. We committed ourselves to each other completely, till death do us part. We became one, two halves of a whole, a partnership in every sense of the word.

2013-12-13 Birthday Card Inside

I then experienced for almost twenty-nine years the bliss of loving the perfect-for-me wife. We gave each other all we had and did so without reservation. We loved. We cherished. We thrived.

(Envelope)

Our reward came in the form of a wondrous marriage. We were as inseparable as wet and water. Only death had the power to sever our bond.

It's your birthday, Myra, but every birthday you had was a gift to me.

Navigating the Tempest

In memory of my wonderful wife

Some of you know this, but on the afternoon of Wednesday, July 17, 2013, I made an announcement on Facebook that broke my heart.

I cannot begin to express the aching sorrow that flooded my entire being. Over the twenty-nine years that Myra and I were married, we had become one; one mind, one heart, one soul.

August 4, 1984

Until Myra's sweet spirit departed, I did not believe the human heart could survive this level of ache. It is relentless. A gaping hole rests in my chest, open and raw, so deep that I wonder if healing is even possible.

Her death has shattered my very identity. I now must begin the long and arduous struggle to discover who I am without her.

My children have lost their mother and my grandchildren their Maw Maw. And I have lost a wife. She made me complete and whole, better than who I was alone.

My home is now empty. I long for her touch, her laugh and her unconditional love. I yearn to see that smile from across the table, hear her voice over the phone and watch her bounce a grandson on her knee.

I'll never again smell the magic she made in the kitchen or the perfume she'd wear on an evening out. She's no longer there when I turn to share a joke or a dream or a regret.

I will persevere and bravely carry on, for she'd wish nothing less. I'll love our children and grandchildren for the both of us. I'll smile at her memory and weep for what I have lost.

Losing Myra has ushered in the darkest hour of my life. I do not know how long this darkness will last. All I know is that I'm embarking on a new chapter in my life with no idea of what lies ahead. And for the first time in three decades, I'm walking my path alone.

I am angry. I am broken. I am lost. I gave her my solemn vow that I would love and live for us both. I will not break that vow. I'll claw and crawl through each day if I must, but I fear genuine joy will elude me all the days of my life.

Family and friends have overwhelmed me with amazing support. I wear my brave face for them and try to stay strong--whatever that means. But their compassion and prayers do encourage me to face each tomorrow and for that I am thankful.

Death may have taken her from my reach, but nothing can take her from my heart.

To all who are married, I say this: cherish your spouse and make every minute count. It took just over 48 hours for me to go from concerned husband to grieving widower.

My Wife's Obituary

Although I've mentioned Myra in numerous posts, here are a few in which she was prominent:
August is Awesome Because of My Wife Myra
Things For Which I'm Thankful
28 is a Tough Number

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.