July 29, 1999 - our first day of forever. Until then you had just been a guy from work, a guy from work with a great sense of humor, but still - just a guy from work. But after our first date that night, I knew you were a guy I could spend the rest of my life with. Pretty funny considering our first date was a night out at a local bar while you kept running back and forth to the laundromat next door. Believe it or not, that was one of the things I loved about you the most - that you were who you were. You never pretended to be anything you weren’t. And you loved me for who I was.
We became pretty inseparable, pretty quickly after that first night. A few nights out at the movies, a couple dozen meals and a few (too many) margarita’s out at Chuck’s - and I was falling. You had a way of making me feel like I was the only girl in the room. You understood my sense of humor and played along with me. You understood my fears and had a way of making me feel safe and protected. Your arms quickly became my safe haven and your chest became my home.
It was your quirkiness that made me want to stay, that made me want to know you more. Communication with you was like learning morse code. You were always speaking in song lyrics, and eventually so was I. I will think of you every time I look at the clock and see that it’s 6:27. Your silly looks, your obnoxious sayings - they were endearing to me. I never understood your love for history books or your taste in music, but I grew to love your love for them. I marveled at the value you placed on your relationships - family and friends were your life. I knew what kind of a man you were because of those relationships. I knew what kind of husband you’d be and the kind of dad you would become. You worked hard and played harder. You lived life the way it was supposed to be lived. You taught me how to be open to the possibilities that came along, and you taught me to learn to embrace them. Life with you was like one big carnival. I never knew what ride was coming up next, but I knew it’d be bigger and better than the last one. You introduced me to people and places that I never would’ve known otherwise. Your friends quickly became my friends, and I cherish those relationships even more now that you’re no longer here with me. Our summer get-a-ways, our trips to the shore, our backyard BBQ’s - all of these are things I will miss. But none will be missed as much as I will miss you.
There’s no way I can possibly relive all of our memories at this moment. They were far too many, and far too special, to be forced to the surface. They’ll come to me in fleeting moments throughout the coming days, weeks, months and years - and I’ll welcome each and every one of them for I know that they’ll bring me closer to you. We packed a lot into 10 years. A lot of traveling, a lot of fun, a lot of tender moments, a lot of love. It’s during those times that I’ll turn to our precious baby boy and tell him a story about his daddy, and I know our friends and family will do the same. He will always know who his Daddy is. He will know you, just as we do. He will love you with his full heart, just as I do. I’m so sorry that you weren’t able to spend more time with him, or him with you. I know there’s a lot you would’ve taught each other and there’s a lot you would’ve shared. Looking ahead and trying to imagine making the life for our family that we had planned together seems like an unbearable task. I can’t imagine raising him on my own. I can’t imagine all the amazing moments in his future that you won’t be here to see. But I also know that in these final weeks, you did a lot of additional planning that I wasn’t in on. I know you made plans for Shane and I that didn’t include you. I know you asked the people closest to you to protect us and to love us the way you did, and the way you would’ve if you could only have stayed here with us. I know you made sure we’d be taken care of.
It’s amazing how alone and empty I feel now. How cold and unfamiliar our home feels. It’s amazing how photos that once brought me such joy, now bring me such pain. I’m terrified of the sadness that I know will continue to overcome me in the coming months. I’m afraid of the pain and of it consuming me. I had no idea it was possible to feel such physical pain. A broken heart isn’t just something you read about and it isn’t just a phrase that gets tossed around. It’s a real thing. A living, breathing thing. And it sucks.
We had one of those rare kinds of love - the unconditional, words don’t need to be spoken kind. We hated to be away from each other for even a second. We were each other’s everything. You loved me enough to keep on fighting when you couldn’t fight anymore and that is how I was able to love you enough to make the decision on Thursday to let you be comfortable. To let you go. In our, almost, 10 years of knowing each other and our, almost, 5 years of marriage, my ONLY two regrets are that we didn’t have enough time and that you had to endure all that you endured. I honestly never thought that cancer diagnosis last October would take you from me. I never thought I’d be looking at a future without you. I wanted nothing more than to make this process easier for you, and it was anything but. I wanted so badly to save you. To insure ourselves the future we had planned. The research done, the phonecalls made, the paperwork filled out - it was all for you. I’m sorry it wasn’t enough.
I like to think that you took my heart with you and that you left me with yours. Feeling your heart beat inside me lets me know that you’re still here and you’re still protecting me. I may not have your strong arms as my safe haven anymore, but I have your strength - and I know that that will have to be enough to carry me through.
Thank you for loving me so well and so completely. I will never love anyone the way I love you and I will never be loved the way you loved me. I will miss you for the rest of my life and I will love you always.
Much, baby. Much.
