It’s been eight years today since I lost my husband. Eight long years. Part of me wants to cry and a few tears have already been shed. Will I ever get over it? I don’t know.
What I do know is that I am strong. He never coddled me. I hated handling the budget but he said I did a great job so why should he take it over? Because I hated it! He reminded me that he worked long hard hours to provide for us. The least I could do was disburse the money.
He taught me things about cars. No one will rip me off! And he taught me to stand on my feet. I’m standing!
They say most widows are broke in seven years no matter how much they are left. Um, left? What the heck is that? We were broke most of our married life. Has anything changed? No!
But the one thing he left me that is totally priceless is his belief in me and my writing. That belief has kept me going when I wanted to call it quits. It’s kept me writing and kept me pushing forward and following my dream.
I realize I had something that many people never will find. I had true love. I had that incredible unconditional love.That doesn’t mean we never disagreed because we did. It just means we managed to get over it. And most of the time it ended like this.
Are you still upset?
Are you going to kiss me goodnight?
You know it’s not fair to snuggle when I’m angry.
Yeah, I know.
You know I do love you.
Yeah. Do you still love me?
Then why don’t you kiss me goodnight?
Because I’m still angry.
Okay. Just go to sleep. We both have to get up in the morning.
You know it’s not fair when you do that to me.
I know but I love you. Don’t ever forget it.
I’ve never forgotten it!