"Let us be grateful to people who make us happy,

they are the charming gardeners who make our souls

blossom." 

Marcel Proust

Dear Lloyd,

Sunday will be the second wedding anniversary without you, love, always a difficult time.  Yet I find myself grateful that we had as long together as we did.  When I watch the news or read the news on line, it only serves to emphasize the blessings that were ours.  It would be nice to think that we deserved this, but in the end I don't think we deserve things so much as we are blessed with them.  I hold onto that or I do not think I could go on. 

As I rode my bike the other day, I remembered how I could bathe in the depths of your eyes, liquid brown, renewing myself.  I remembered the softness of your caress, the kindness and love that filled your voice, even when I had made yet another awful mistake.  And I still hold your words close, some more special than others.  The time you told me I was the most beautiful woman in the restaurant, also an anniversary.  Of course, I  knew it was not true, except in your eyes, but your eyes were all that mattered.  The time you told me that essentially I am a kind person knowing how harshly I can judge myself and my actions and my many failures.  Often I smile now when I think of you, though there are still occasional tears.  I can't help but miss you.  Sometimes, love, I just feel so very alone.

Unless they cancel it, I will be riding Sunday though I fear I have come down with a slight cold.  I find it is best to keep myself occupied.  It is my century route from Jeffersonville to the Maple Syrup Festival in Salem.  And I will be thinking of you and praying that you are well in God's care.  As your brother Danny said when he learned of your death, "Fly, Delbert, fly!"   Wait for me, love. Despite my many failings, God could not be so cruel as to put you in one place and me in another.

Love, Melissa

 

Another Valentines Day

"How did it happen that their lips came together?

How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts,

that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the 

stark shape of trees on the quivering summit of the hill?

A kiss, and all was said."

Victor Hugo

Dear Lloyd, 

For some odd reason, this Valentine's Day seems so much harder to bear than last years, despite this being my second Valentine's without you.  Things are going well, love, but I miss you.  Often I make it through the day without tears or sadness, though never without thinking of you.  Strange how nobody thought we would stay together, and yet our love remained as strong as steel.  Today I drank my coffee from one of the corny Valentine's mugs you got me:  #1 wife.  I will miss the flowers and card on the counter, the feeling of being cherished in the way only a spouse can cherish a partner.  It was never about the gift; it was about what was behind the gift.

 I miss the soft whisper of your breath on my neck.  And I miss being held when I cry and told that things will be alright because sometimes it seems that things will never be alright.  I miss your jokes and the funny things you said to make me smile.  I miss your touch, the way you somehow made the callouses of your hands as soft as silk and as gentle as a lamb for you knew I had too much roughness in my past.  For you knew me, love, in ways that nobody else ever has.....fears, vulnerabilities, dreams, longings.  And still you loved me. 

I hope that on this Valentine's Day  couples will take a good, long look at each other and think of what brought them together.  I hope they will fall in love all over again. Because too often in the dreary drudgery of time, we forget, only to remember when it is too late. Like a garden, love grows best when it is nurtured and cultivated.

Hold hands.  Sing to each others hearts.  Be lovers this Valentine's Day.  Kiss long and deeply, kiss every inch of each other, for if you have that special partner, you are blessed and rich in a way that goes far beyond gold or silver.  As were we, love.  Thank you.  Wait for me.  Like a child, I throw your kiss upward toward heaven.  Wishing you were here, Melissa