These “anniversaries” come around, and I don’t know quite what to say here on my blog or on Facebook. Of course, I could saying nothing at all, but that seems so wrong. How can I let this day go unnoticed, unmarked?
You see, six years ago, just a few weeks after turning 48 and just 6 weeks and 1 day after learning he had cancer, my husband passed away.
A wonderful man, husband, father, son, brother, friend . . . he was all those things and more . . . was gone.
But he is never forgotten by those who loved him, and that is what prompts me to log on to Facebook every July 25 (his birthday), September 2, and September 15 (our anniversary). There’s this need, this mission if you will, to ensure that others don’t forget him, either. That his time here on earth, the man that he was, the impact that he had on others, is remembered and that he is honored.
My post here isn’t enough, and a Facebook update certainly isn’t enough to honor a man who consistently sacrificed his own wants for his family; he drove the old pick-up while the kids and I had the newer vehicles. He would regularly work a 12-hour shift and then go to our son’s baseball game or our daughter’s recital or other activity; even though his body desperately longed to find a bed and get some sleep, his heart was determined to spend every possible moment with our son and daughter, to be there for every event, every milestone.
There isn’t space enough to share the kind of man he was. The man who loved amusement parks and roller-coasters and those huge water slides. The man who loved to hunt and fish and simply enjoy the great outdoors God has blessed us with. The man who loved to play card games and board games and who loved to win and, although he hated to lose, usually did so graciously.
There are no words to describe his absolute love for me and his family, his bone-deep, all-encompassing love for our son and daughter.
There are so many memories, some big but most so very tiny, tucked away in my heart. I share some of them with my children. In fact, I probably share them too often, repeating a favorite time and again. And I appreciate that my son and daughter never roll their eyes or sigh; no, they listen and smile and add their own recollections.
They, like me, don’t want his memory to fade away.
And that is why, on these “anniversaries”, we post on Facebook and I share about my husband here on my blog.
It isn’t about me, and I don’t want it to be about me.
No, it’s about him — a wonderful husband, an absolutely fantastic father, and a son, brother, relative, and friend whose presence in our lives was an absolute blessing.
He is so sorely missed. May that always be so.