Ten Thousand Times

Today.  Feels like it took a century to get here, but its ominous gray has loomed on the horizon for only a year. And I've made it through every single day that it took to get here.

I'm proud. I'm surprised--shocked really. There were times I didn't think I'd make it this long. Truthfully, there were times I didn't want to make it this long. But I promised her. I said I'd live and love for the both of us.

And I have.

My year of firsts has come to an end and I'm still here. I'm still living. I'm still loving our children and grandchildren for us both. I've survived the birthdays, the holidays, the anniversaries. I've faced the quiet house, the empty bed, the missing lunchtime phone calls and the absence of her I Love My Husband messages on my Facebook wall. From the "see me off to work" kiss to the night's last embrace, I've persevered without it all.

I'm doing my best to do my best, if you follow my logic. That includes my writing. I've had two short stories published since Myra died. The Orchid, the first one I wrote after July 17, 2013, was by far the most difficult story I've ever written. Every single sentence came about as easily as a wisdom tooth yanked out of my jaw. But I kept my word.

I wonder sometimes if I'd have been able to keep that promise were it not for family and friends. Your prayers, your words of encouragement, your patience and understanding, they made the difference--literally--between life and death. I am forever in your debt.

In the eyes of society, the state and God, I'm a widower. In my heart, I'm a husband and will remain so until death reunites us. The poem below, I wrote for my wife.

Ten Thousand Times.

10,000 times I've kissed your rings

10,000 times I've whispered your name

Knowing not what tomorrow brings

Wondering why that woeful day came

10,000 times I've shed a tear

10,000 times I've asked God why

All those times in just one year

Seldom a day do my eyes stay dry

10,000 times I've pictured your face

10,000 times I've struggled to smile

Knowing that you're in a better place

And I'll join you there after my last mile

10,000 words I've penned in letters

10,000 times I've prayed for grace

To endure this grief that fetters

And find true peace as I run this race

10,000 days were we on Earth wed

10,000 times has my shattered heart beat

10,000 ways will my soul have bled

When comes that day it's again complete

The first of 10,571 days "on Earth wed"

Navigating the Tempest

In memory of my wonderful wife

Some of you know this, but on the afternoon of Wednesday, July 17, 2013, I made an announcement on Facebook that broke my heart.

I cannot begin to express the aching sorrow that flooded my entire being. Over the twenty-nine years that Myra and I were married, we had become one; one mind, one heart, one soul.

August 4, 1984

Until Myra's sweet spirit departed, I did not believe the human heart could survive this level of ache. It is relentless. A gaping hole rests in my chest, open and raw, so deep that I wonder if healing is even possible.

Her death has shattered my very identity. I now must begin the long and arduous struggle to discover who I am without her.

My children have lost their mother and my grandchildren their Maw Maw. And I have lost a wife. She made me complete and whole, better than who I was alone.

My home is now empty. I long for her touch, her laugh and her unconditional love. I yearn to see that smile from across the table, hear her voice over the phone and watch her bounce a grandson on her knee.

I'll never again smell the magic she made in the kitchen or the perfume she'd wear on an evening out. She's no longer there when I turn to share a joke or a dream or a regret.

I will persevere and bravely carry on, for she'd wish nothing less. I'll love our children and grandchildren for the both of us. I'll smile at her memory and weep for what I have lost.

Losing Myra has ushered in the darkest hour of my life. I do not know how long this darkness will last. All I know is that I'm embarking on a new chapter in my life with no idea of what lies ahead. And for the first time in three decades, I'm walking my path alone.

I am angry. I am broken. I am lost. I gave her my solemn vow that I would love and live for us both. I will not break that vow. I'll claw and crawl through each day if I must, but I fear genuine joy will elude me all the days of my life.

Family and friends have overwhelmed me with amazing support. I wear my brave face for them and try to stay strong--whatever that means. But their compassion and prayers do encourage me to face each tomorrow and for that I am thankful.

Death may have taken her from my reach, but nothing can take her from my heart.

To all who are married, I say this: cherish your spouse and make every minute count. It took just over 48 hours for me to go from concerned husband to grieving widower.

My Wife's Obituary

Although I've mentioned Myra in numerous posts, here are a few in which she was prominent:
August is Awesome Because of My Wife Myra
Things For Which I'm Thankful
28 is a Tough Number

The Downside to Discovery Writing

Discovery writing can be such a joy.  I marvel at what my muse does, what she shows me and where she takes me.  I enjoy nothing better than discovering my story as I go.  But, I've learned there is a downside to writing this way.

March 17th, 2012, minutes before midnight, it happened.  I didn't mean for it to happen.  It just did.  It wasn't my intention. From out of the blue it came.  I stared at the monitor in shock, unable to accept that my fingers had typed the words.  I was horrified at how chapter 32 was ending.  I all but wept.  I had killed a character.

This is not a trivial matter.  Not to me.  This character was pivotal.  I liked him.  A lot!  It doesn't matter that his death was valiant and noble.  It doesn't matter that my protagonist is where he is because of him.  The deed is done.  And now I'm mourning the loss.  I was not prepared.

This was a wise character, a gentle soul.  His voice was uniquely his own.  I had plans for him.  He had a revelation to share with the protagonist.  Now that revelation will have to come from elsewhere.  He enriched the tale.  And he was a joy to write.

This wise character would tell me it was necessary and show me how and why things will be better because of it.  He'd point out to me the numerous avenues where this tale can go now, the many plot lines that will develop as the result.  He'd tell me these things and try to comfort me.  I know he'd be right, but it doesn't change anything.  Not really.  I saw the impossible unfolding before my eyes and kept on writing.

I knew he wasn't destined to last until the end of the series.  I've known for a very long time what his final words were supposed to be.  He never said them.  He never got the chance.

I'm rambling a bit.  I realize that.  But we do that sometimes when we lose someone we love.  We try to make sense of it.  Why him?  Why now?  Why did I keep going?  I wanted to turn off the computer and forget to click Save.  Never before have I loathed to click that toolbar button.  Never until now.

The upside to Discovery Writing is that it gives you wonderful, unexpected gifts: unplanned scenes, beautiful dialog, enticing settings and even enthralling plot.  The downside to Discovery Writing is that it can take away those very same gifts.

This was a sacrifice he was willing to make.  It seems he was more willing to make it than I was.

Rest in peace, beloved.  May your journey to Dreyhurst be swift.  
You will be remembered.  You will be missed.