She liked scary movies and Cookie Dough ice cream, symphonies and head banging rock (she would imitate Wayne from Wayne’s World when Bohemian Rhapsody came on the radio.) She had a singing voice best suited for lullabies, not concert halls… an aversion to public speaking and a keen eye for BS. She loved food but didn’t eat much. A can of Coke and anything chocolate was always nearby. She wanted to see the world, as long as it was together. Everywhere we went, she said “Let’s live here!” (I came to understand that it just meant that she was able to see the good wherever she went.) She didn’t know much about history (as the song goes) but loved to hear me talk about it. She didn’t climb Everest, paint oil on canvas or write poetry… no, her masterpieces would be her children, Charlotte, Jack and Daniel. Perfect in their imperfections, they remain astonishing expressions of their mother’s legacy: Life, Love, Laughter. They bring her to life for me each day and I will never be able to thank them, nor likely, explain it to them.
Somewhere during that last line, I realized that I was attempting the impossible: to describe a woman. She was quite a woman. And she blessed me with 15 + years of friendship, love, marriage, children… but most of all, laughter. You can’t possibly know how deeply we laughed together. The simplest, most trivial, intimate things made us giggle like children. It is that unbound joyfulness, that I wish for my kids as they grow and begin lifelong relationships.
Five years ago, to this moment, my love surrendered to the evil that doctors call glioblastoma multiforme. Some say God took her from us. I prefer to say that He gave her to us…
For way too short a time.