Ten Thousand Times

Today.  Feels like it took a century to get here, but its ominous gray has loomed on the horizon for only a year. And I've made it through every single day that it took to get here.

I'm proud. I'm surprised--shocked really. There were times I didn't think I'd make it this long. Truthfully, there were times I didn't want to make it this long. But I promised her. I said I'd live and love for the both of us.

And I have.

My year of firsts has come to an end and I'm still here. I'm still living. I'm still loving our children and grandchildren for us both. I've survived the birthdays, the holidays, the anniversaries. I've faced the quiet house, the empty bed, the missing lunchtime phone calls and the absence of her I Love My Husband messages on my Facebook wall. From the "see me off to work" kiss to the night's last embrace, I've persevered without it all.

I'm doing my best to do my best, if you follow my logic. That includes my writing. I've had two short stories published since Myra died. The Orchid, the first one I wrote after July 17, 2013, was by far the most difficult story I've ever written. Every single sentence came about as easily as a wisdom tooth yanked out of my jaw. But I kept my word.

I wonder sometimes if I'd have been able to keep that promise were it not for family and friends. Your prayers, your words of encouragement, your patience and understanding, they made the difference--literally--between life and death. I am forever in your debt.

In the eyes of society, the state and God, I'm a widower. In my heart, I'm a husband and will remain so until death reunites us. The poem below, I wrote for my wife.

Ten Thousand Times.

10,000 times I've kissed your rings

10,000 times I've whispered your name

Knowing not what tomorrow brings

Wondering why that woeful day came

10,000 times I've shed a tear

10,000 times I've asked God why

All those times in just one year

Seldom a day do my eyes stay dry

10,000 times I've pictured your face

10,000 times I've struggled to smile

Knowing that you're in a better place

And I'll join you there after my last mile

10,000 words I've penned in letters

10,000 times I've prayed for grace

To endure this grief that fetters

And find true peace as I run this race

10,000 days were we on Earth wed

10,000 times has my shattered heart beat

10,000 ways will my soul have bled

When comes that day it's again complete

The first of 10,571 days "on Earth wed"

I Married a Martian

While browsing my blog, I realized I've not posted a short story in over a year. I figured it was time to correct that.

The following ~450 word short was hastily written in response to a writing group challenge. The challenge's prompt was "I married a Martian." It's the first light-hearted thing I've written in a good while. I hope you enjoy!

I Married a Martian

by Jeff Hargett

Yes, I broke the interspecies marriage law, but how was I to know Cosp wanted to destroy Earth? I mean, he's a Martian. Why should he care?

Zelda told me I was asking for trouble. "All Martians want to destroy Earth," she said. Orson Wells tried to tell us, but nobody listened. Well, Chuck Jones listened and created Marvin, so maybe it had to do with Bugs getting the better of him on Saturday mornings.

It was a vortex relationship. I spotted him while on vacation. He was taking the same lunar orbit holiday cruise I was. I had to settle for the $999,999.99 cheap seats, but there he was three rows ahead of me on the left. I'm a sucker for silver hair and Cosp's hung past his shoulders. It highlighted that ever-so-sexy blue-tinted skin of his. That Martian smote me before he saw me. Three days and 250,000 miles later we were hunting for preachers.

Marrying a Martian ain't easy. The first thing you got to do is get to Iceland. It's the only place on Earth so far that's repealed that blasted law. And if that wasn't enough, finding somebody willing to join baby-face blue and auburn-topped ivory in holy matrimony is about as easy as eating triple-scoop butter pecan in the Mojave before it melts. And then they charge you extra.

We honeymooned there. Seven days and six nights with excursions to Greenland wasn't my idea. Cosp said it reminded him of home. Too much heat and his complexion turns all aqua, he said. I bought it. How was I to know the central complex for the planetary defense shield rested square in the middle of Greenland?

Our marriage was about as brief as our courtship was. There I was basking in Greenland's balmy twelve degree sunshine and every alarm on the planet goes crazy. Cosp said he was going to the lavatory. Didn't dawn on me until later that Martians void by sweating. It ain't as bad as it sounds though. It's odorless.

I never realized how fast those F-63s fly nowadays. Those older model jets never stood a chance at taking out ICBMs, but they apparently train those pilots well. They intercepted every nuke Cosp managed to launch.

I never saw my husband again. I guess they got him. It ain't like Martians can turn invisible or beam back to Mars. They never came after me though. Cosp must have kept us a secret. Say what you will, but that hunk of sexy alien had a soft spot for me in both of those blue hearts of his, ulterior motive or not.

Yes, I married a Martian, but blast my asteroids, I'd do it again.

You and I

To all the teachers who taught me grammar I'm compelled to confess...

We're great together, you and I.  For it is only I that accompanies you.  But alas there come times you and I must part and you should instead be together with me.  It's not always easy to see, but sometimes you really should be with me.

No one appreciates you and I.  They only appreciate you and me.  It matters not if they use your name.  For I gets left out just the same.

You and I are a compound subject.  But when you are with me, we make a compound object, see?  For with or without you, I am the subject, but the object is always me.

Our English teachers spent years beating "You and I" into our heads because "you" should always precede "I" when used as compound subjects in our sentences.  They should have also beat into our noggins that "you" precedes "me" in our compound objects as well.

Just remember that whether we're alone or not, it is I that does things and that things are always done to me.

Grammar Girl does a good job explaining this in her
Between You and Me  post. Other references can also be found by performing an internet search using grammar, compound object, and You and I as keywords.

Come August 4th, Myra and I will have been married for twenty-eight years! (I am now bowing to your awesome applause.)  But twenty-eight years ago, wedding gifts were given to Myra and me.

No, I am not an authority on grammar.  I do, however, try to abide by the rules of the language when I know them.  I break them intentionally at times.  I break them without intending to sometimes as well.  As is the case with most of us, I am still learning and will continue to learn.  Let us improve together.