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.

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"

What Turning 50 Means to Me

Today, I'm turning fifty. The Big Five Oh! I always imagined it would be a momentous day, a milestone of sorts.

Turning twenty was such a milestone. It was then that I finally accepted that I was an adult. It wasn't all joyous. I joked that it was my mid-life crisis. I loved being a teenager in the prime of my life. Twenty didn't mean I had grown old, but it did mean I had grown older. My twenty-year-old brain figured old would come later, say, when I turned fifty.

Turning 50. Fire hazard?

In some respects, the fifty milestone is exactly what I expected. I'm grateful to be alive and acutely aware that a half-century of life lay behind, rather than in front, of me.

The fifty mile-marker comes with some costs. Things don't work as well now as they did years ago. Joints creak and pop. Muscles complain. The brain learns more slowly and forgets more frequently. Hair goes gray or goes away. And eyes refuse to focus on anything within two feet of them.

But the milestone also comes with some perks. My two children and three grandchildren are perks most priceless. I've accumulated fifty years worth of wisdom. I have a home and a good job with great coworkers.

I'm not old enough to have gone mountain climbing with Moses or talk about the weather with Noah, but I did see the end of the Vietnam War, the Berlin Wall come down, Challenger explode, Watergate unfold, President Reagan shot and all 444 days of the Iran hostage crisis. I saw the rise and fall of disco, CB radios, and Netscape Navigator. I witnessed the birth of Nasdaq, MTV, Microsoft, the first test-tube baby and a cloned sheep named Dolly. I saw pocket calculators, personal computers, cell phones and the internet itself invented--not all by Al Gore. :-)

I experienced the bliss of finding the perfect wife and the inconsolable anguish of losing her. Maybe that's what it took for me to finally accept that flesh and blood are not immortal.

Please be safe!

I've seen a lot, done a lot, survived a lot. I've achieved successes and learned from failures. Thanks to modern medicine, I've even defied death.

So, as expected, turning fifty is still a milestone. Yes, in some ways I really do feel old, but in other ways, not so much. I've learned to cherish not only each birthday, but every day. They're all gifts we're not guaranteed to receive.

Turning fifty means I'm alive. And come bliss or heartache, I'll accept that gift and keep living it as best I can.

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.

Things For Which I'm Thankful

I'm thankful for:

Marrying the most wonderful woman alive. No one loves me more, is more supportive or as proud of me as she is.  I firmly believe that God himself fashioned her just for me.

My children. My wife and I wed believing we'd never have children. God gave us two. I love them with every fiber of my being.

My grandchildren. Bundles of energy, life and laughter, these three boys are. Nothing is sweeter in my ears than hearing them yell for Paw Paw!

Living in the greatest country on the planet.  I love my country, warts and all.  I served it as a member of the armed forces.  I vote in every election.  I take my freedom seriously.

My job. Despite the frequently excessive hours and often taxing demands, it pays our bills and I enjoy the work.

My health.  Two bouts with disability and a series of surgeries is enough to remind me that my health could always be worse. I'm mobile, productive and thankful to be so.

And I'm thankful to have met so many wonderful writers and bloggers.  I've found kindred spirits, die-hard supporters, voices of reason and wisdom, and folks who inspire just by being their awesome selves.

For these and so many more things, I'm thankful, not just today, but every day.

To every last one of you, I wish a most Happy Thanksgiving!

August is Awesome Because of My Wife Myra

The whole purpose behind me running this Awesome August series was to introduce to you some of the awesome people I've met.  And I've met quite a few.  However, there is one awesome person that outshines the rest.  I consider myself exceedingly fortunate to not only know the most awesome person alive, but to have married her as well.

In fact, awesome is an adjective wholly inadequate for describing Myra.  She's awesomer than awesome!  Her mere presence enriches my existence to the point that even I, a writer, can't find words to express how wonderful my life is because of her.

Over twenty-eight years ago I realized I loved this awesome woman.  The day we wed I would have given my life for her.  And after all these years I love her even more now than I would have ever believed possible even on that most special day.

A long, long, long time ago...

This woman has the uncanny ability to read my mind and finish my sentences.  She can not only predict what things I want or need, but hand them to me before I even realize I want or need them.  She'll prepare a meal and already be cooking the very thing I would have asked her to make.  And good gosh can my wife bake!  Never has she pulled anything out of the oven that didn't leave me salivating in anticipation.

She knows what I'm going to want to wear to work tomorrow.  She knows when I need "Jeff time" after a long day at work.  She offers encouragement and feeds my confidence like nobody deserves.  She refuses to let me berate myself, countering each self-condemning statement I make with a litany of reasons why I'm wrong.  She loves unconditionally and caters to me like I were a king.

Just this week at work, a coworker approached while I was on the cell phone speaking with Myra.  I noticed this coworker grinning and eventually had to ask why.  She told me I looked like a teenager talking with his brand new girl friend.  Do I still feel that freshness, that excitement after all these years?  You bet I do.  I just didn't realize it was so obvious to everyone.

My inspiration.  My life.

People often ask what our secret is.  Is it the giddy tingles we feel when the other enters a room?  Our fluttering and racing heartbeats when we join hands? The ecstasy of loving embraces? Those things are indeed wonderful, but they're not our secret.

Our secret is commitment.

This is not commitment for commitment's sake.  This is commitment that fuels devotion, demands dedication and drives the determination required to make each moment special.  It's the resolve to set one's self second.

This commitment offers an honest apology for a voice raised in frustration or a word spoken in anger.  This commitment is the reminder to open her car door, the willingness to hold her purse in public.  It's forgiving him for not remembering the anniversary of your first date or for forgetting to give you a kiss before he left for work.

This commitment hurts worse for the hurt of the other than for the hurt of one's self.  It revels in the other's success and comforts the other's sorrows.  It protects.  It serves.  It endures.

This is the commitment that only the most awesome people are willing to make.

My wife is awesome.  I'll tell you today that loving Myra more than I do right now is impossible yet tomorrow I'll tell you that I was wrong.

Twenty-eight years of marriage and I'm still stricken by her awesomeness.

Sunday Surfing & Avengers Experience

20 Common Grammar Mistakes that Almost Everyone Gets Wrong (Lit Reactor)

Shakespeare Does the Three Little Pigs  (hilarious video!)

Lady of Muse (for lovers of art and poetry)

inkPageant

Crack You Whip  (Always good for a laugh)



Twenty-seven years of marriage and still dating...

Yep, took the wife to the movies Friday.  Watched, of course, The Avengers.  (Was anything else showing?)  The wife did a lot of grinning.  (Me thinks she found all those muscles and all that testosterone appealing.)

I had high expectations going into it.  They've been building to this for quite some time now.  I braced myself  for disappointment, but doing so was unnecessary.  The movie was really good!  Lots of action.  Lots of strong characterization.  Fantastic humor.  This is one I can recommend to any who like action.

And as always, the popcorn was to die for, the weight of which increases in direct proportion to the amount of butter in which it floats.  Everything's better with butter!  And I'm getting somewhat accustomed to wearing 3D glasses and eye glasses all at the same time.

Life is grand!

Like the links?  Like the movie?