Tag: family

struggle

Struggling

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

grief in waves 3I don’t know why I’m having so much trouble lately. Well, maybe I do. My life is in disarray. Turmoil. Disorder. I like order. Control. I feel as though I’m on the edge of a teeter-totter. Hanging down. Bouncing up. Teetering side to side. Not sure where I’ll land on any given day. Unsettling. It makes it difficult to find the words. But sometimes they come from other places. Just when I need it most. My son, Ryan, sent me beautiful words today. Words that made sense of my unsettled world. Words that brought me onto a straight plane. Rather than one that was teetering off balance.

grief in waves 2After feeling unsettled at a social event, these words comforted me. I no longer felt as alone as I did standing there. Standing and staring at couples holding hands. Watching couples interact. Thinking about once being a part of a pair. And now being just one. I wanted to wear a banner. A t-shirt. “My husband was so amazing God made him an angel and he watches me from above.” Truth. Or, “I’m not a widow. I’m a wife. My husband awaits me on the other side.” Truth. But, the real truth. I am a widow. And driving away, I felt sad. Empty. The teeter had tottered to the ground. I just had to figure out how to bring it back up. These words reminded me. It’s all part of the journey. It never goes away. It just changes. Grief. It will always be a part of me. Sometimes it will hide in my pocket. Other times, it will pop out and hit me smack in the face.

grief in waves“Grief. You’ll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it’s some physical thing. Maybe it’s a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it’s a person who is also floating.For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.” I have been here. I have survived this wave. I have hung on. Gregger’s wedding band hangs around my neck. He is always close to my heart. I see his face on my phone, my computer, all around my house. He is near. These are the memories that keep him alive.

“In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don’t eve give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you’ll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what’s going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything…and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life. Somewhere down the line, and it’s different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you’ll come out. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don’t really want them to. But you learn that you’ll survive them. And other waves will come. And you’ll survive them too. If you’re lucky, you’ll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.”

This 75-foot wave caught me off guard. I wasn’t prepared. I should have been. A year later I know the signs. But I’ve been on cruise control. I’ll ride the wave. Let it crash into shore. Feel the pain. And sail out again. The scars I bear will be a testament to the life we had together. One filled with love, laughs, and memories. One that I was not ready to give up. One that ended far too soon. But one that I cherish with all my heart. I will survive this wave. And the next. And the one after that. Knowing that the ride is all part of the journey. My journey. To find peace.

grief in waves 4

the silence

The Silence

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

silenceFor the past year, I have spent more time in the space of my mind than I have for the past 61 years. I never really thought about the time I was alone. I filled the spaces. I knew the emptiness was short-lived. I knew Gregger was always coming back. To fill the space. The silence. But living alone is different. Hours go by without speaking. Hours where it’s just me. Inside my head. And I have to decide. Good thoughts. Bad. Angry. Sad. I have control. I can turn the switch. On. Off. Louder. Softer. I can change the “station.” Change my thoughts. Change my attitude. It sounds so elementary. Technically it is. Emotionally, maybe not.

silence 2I enter my “space” and immediately want noise. Lucy greets me with yaps, tongue kisses. But then the silence is deafening. I can overstimulate with TV or computers, but that doesn’t fill the “space.” It doesn’t answer back. It’s still silent. It’s still just me. Find the peace.

Being the oldest of five, I grew up in noise. I didn’t know the meaning of silence. I’d hide in my room to escape noise. But I’d find more noise. TV. Music. Phone. I cannot fall asleep without background TV. Gregger and I fought over the sleep timer. He’d turn it on. I’d turn it off. Noise all night long. Anything to block out the silence.

“Silence is not an absence of sound but rather a shifting of attention toward sounds that speak to the soul.”

silence 1I think back to my first Savasana. The final pose in yoga. The deepest pose of relaxation when all thoughts should leave the mind. Impossible. I could not do it. I would check off my grocery list. Plans for the week. Where I needed to go. What I needed to do. Anything but emptying my mind. Slowly, I began to experience the silence. I quieted my mind and as I drifted away, I would bring it back to the emptiness. At first, I lasted 15 seconds. Soon it was 30 seconds. And, before I knew it, I was able to be “silent” for the full savasana. I did not want it to end. Sometimes tears trickled down my cheeks. Where did they come from? I’d open my eyes and taste the saltiness in my mouth. I was deep in silence, yet somewhere else.

I go back to this “space” now. But I don’t need a mat. A class. A special room. I can be anywhere. My eyes open. Heart open. Mind open. The “silence” is my friend. I now have the courage to look inside. It has taken me on this journey of grief. It has helped me discover me at a difficult time. But I’ve realized I can survive. Silence is my friend. It teaches me. To befriend myself. To listen. To learn. To be mindful. Without the “silence,” there would be no time for growth. No time to feel. The joy. The sadness. The anger. The love. The hope. And what could be better than that.

Sit in the silence. Listen. To your heart. Your soul. Your breath. Your feelings. No judgments. No critiques. No scrutiny. Find your peace. It is there. Waiting for you. The serenity of silence.

Take a moment of silence to remember today…

911

dont wait

Don’t Wait

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

US openI spent Labor Day weekend consumed with the U.S. Open. I am a tennis junkie. I guess that goes back to when the boys played, and it stuck. But I should not be watching alone. This was something Gregger and I did together. And this year we were supposed to be in New York. At the Open. That was the plan. But plans change. Life changes. And I’m here watching the matches on TV. Not in person. Not in New York. Not with Gregger. We had a lot of plans. We had our bucket list. In the last five to ten years, we were checking it off. But we had a long way to go.

When you’re young you think you have the whole world in front of you. There’s always tomorrow. We put things off forever. Or so it seemed. First it was a house. Kids. A bigger house. Kid expenses. College. It never ended. So we delayed our bucket list. In the last ten to fifteen years, things changed. The kids were grown. We were settled. Life was good. So we started “checking off.” But it took some convincing. Some nudging. Gregger would have been happy working nonstop. Stuck in his routine. I had to pull him out of it. Sometimes it meant tacking on a “bucket list item” to business. But I was okay with that. However we did it, we did it. Check. don't wait

Last year, my “bucket list” included being able to walk again. First a few steps. Then maybe a mile. The ultimate, climb Pinnacle Peak. Get back to OTF.  I never thought I’d be able to do those things. I could barely sit or climb stairs. Now I’m running, working out every day. I believe “someone” is watching over me. Check.

I always dreamed of writing. Or to share my writings with others. Strange how things work out that way. Not the way I planned it. Maybe part of someone else’s plan. That’s okay. Check.

Going back to Hawaii was a big one. Ending the way it did was not. And now we will never finish the bucket list we shared.  A new house closer to the store. African Safari. Australia.Washington, D.C. I was there. Gregger was not.  We planned to “train it” from NYC. The perfect plan. I guess not. And the biggest one. The one we were planning for January. The one we’d been planning for our 25th, our 30th, and our 35th. But life kept getting in the way. Renewing our vows for our upcoming 40th anniversary. All part of OUR Bucket List. The list we will never check together. But one I will try to fulfill on my own. A journey I will travel. And always know that Gregger is with me. In my heart. By my side.

bucket listBut YOU have today. YOU can fill your bucket list. They can be simple. Close to home.  Whatever your hopes. Whatever your dreams. DON’T WAIT. Don’t put off ’til tomorrow what YOU can do today. I learned tomorrow may be too late. We were lucky. We had a lot of tomorrows. We filled our bucket about 3/4 full. I was blessed. But I would have loved to fill it to the top. With Gregger. Not alone. I just don’t have that chance. But you do.  What are YOU waiting for?

Five years ago I wrote to myself: “Make every day count. Appreciate every moment and take from it everything that you possibly can.” 

bucket list 1

 

home again

Home Again

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

“Home is where you go to find solace from the ever-changing chaos, to find love within the confines of a heartless world, and to be reminded that no matter how far you wander, there will always be something waiting when you return.”

home 1Love, support, friendship. I was blessed this past weekend. I was blessed to be surrounded by family and friends. I wasn’t sure about my decision. I was feeling guilty. I thought I should be with my kids. But it all turned out for the best. Everyone ended up right where they were supposed to be. Sometimes life makes our choices for us. And they turn out okay. I want to believe that’s what happened. Because we did okay. It was tough. Sad. But being surrounded by people who love you is a gift.

I went “home” again. Back to my beginnings. The place that defined me. But also a place that made me want to be something else. Something different. Something better. I wanted to come back a “better” me. And I believe I did that. A “better me” who was grateful for roots. Foundation. A “better me” who recognized all the blessings of “home.” I’ve come home many times before. I’d see people. Share memories. And leave. But this time people were there. Not just for social engagement. But for me. They embraced me at a time I needed it most. I felt the love. The warmth. The friendship. The camaraderie of fifty plus years. Indescribable. The bond, never ending.

homeMy parents. My sister. Life-long family friends. All gathered to share Gregger’s memory. To honor him on Sunday. Some knew him. Some did not. It made no difference. That’s what being home is all about. It felt good to be home. To sleep in my old room. To drive by my old school. Relive memories. See “old” friends. There is something to be said about coming home again. As the old saying goes, “There’s no place like home.”

And then I flew to my “new” home. Lucy and me. Not back to the home where Gregger and I lived for 38 years. Not back to the home where I raised my three kids. Not back to the home where all our memories were made. My home. New beginnings. And I knew I was home Tuesday morning. I walked into OTF for my morning workout. So excited to get the blood flowing. See friends. And welcoming me back, loud and clear, was Gregger. “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” Playing. I melted. But I knew. I was right where I was supposed to be. Home.

home 2

For those who don’t know the significance of “the rainbow,” check out “The Rainbow” @atruelovefairytale.com from May 8th, 2015. 

greg eveloff

Gregger’s Legacy…Today It Begins

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment
The grand poopah!
The grand poopah!

I’ve started writing this post over and over again. I’ve gone in so many different directions. But the same thing keeps coming back to me. I am overwhelmed with the abundance of love and support that overflowed on Sunday for Gregger. Facebook messages, texts, phone calls, collages, and more. It was endless. It is still coming. But the messages had a common bond. And that’s what keeps coming back to me.

One message stated, “ When someone like Greg leaves us, and because of his special personal magnitude of impact in all our lives, it’s like trying to fill a huge universe black hole. So incredibly vast and infinitely impossible to fill!! A true testimony to a spirit that changed all our lives for the better. Thanks, Greg, for making me a better man.”

This was the universal message. His compassion for life and family. The impact he had on so many lives he touched. He never said anything. He never let anyone know when he “did” anything. It was subtle. He was quiet. But he did it. Big or small. And he obviously left his mark on this world.

kindness gives (1)We can all do it too. Imagine this world if we could all leave such a legacy behind? So for one day, two, three, a month, a year, let’s try to live like Gregger. Let’s share his legacy. Be kind. Compassionate. Listen. It’s the simple things.

“We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give.”

  • Smile at a stranger, just because.
  • Let cars merge or enter the freeway or busy street- stop road rage.
  • If the person behind you at the grocery store has one or two items, let them go ahead.
  • Hold the door open for a few people to walk through.
  • Give up a parking space. It’s not worth the fight.
  • Fill out that survey for a Target or Best Buy employee. It takes a few seconds and means the world to them.
  • Help a mother with a stroller, an elderly person with their groceries.
  • Send a friend a card, just because.
  • Compliment a stranger on their dress, shoes, or smile. It really doesn’t matter as long as it’s sincere.
  • Give a hug.

There are hundreds of little ways to make a difference. To do the right thing. The good thing. This is what Gregger did EVERY DAY. This is how he touched people. This is why people are reminded to live just a little better. Be good. Do good. Live good. That is the legacy I think of when I say his name.

So today begins the “Gregger Chain of Goodness.”

Reach out and touch…with your heart, your words. You never know what someone is going through, but a kind word can make a world of difference in a person’s life. It sure made one in mine. 

kindness gives

thank-you

Thank You

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

DSC_0077 (1)I’ve made it through the worst of times. Death. Firsts. And now it’s time to say “thank you.” I  need to divert from the blog for a bit. I would not have made it here without YOU. Family. Friends. Strangers. You helped me reach this road. You’ve been by my side on this journey. A journey that continues. A journey that looks toward the future instead of looking back in the past. I will always remember. I will hold the memories in my heart forever. And you have helped me. You have supported me in ways I never dreamed possible. You have given me strength when I thought my world was falling apart.

Someone asked me the other day, “Are you overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support?” How is that even possible? At the beginning I felt alone. My best friend was gone. There will always be an empty space in my heart. But thanks to you, I don’t feel alone anymore.  People ask, “Where do you find your strength?” I find it from YOU. All of you. Family, friends, and those I’ve never met but touch me every day. You embrace me with your kind words. You touch my heart when I touch yours. It comes full circle. When I hear I am giving others strength, it makes me stronger. When I hear I give hope, I know tomorrow is a brighter day. Positivity is a magnet. It attracts goodness, kindness, compassion. We give, we get. Thank you.

I thought this anniversary would be the most difficult day since August 30th, 2014. But thanks to you, I’ve approached it with new life. I thought long and hard about my choices. I could spend the time being sad. Grieving more. Or I could celebrate Gregger in all his glory. Celebrate his life. His loves. His passion.

To those I’ve never met but am so grateful for: The messages. Email. Facebook. They are so heartwarming. I want to reach through the airwaves and hug you. I want to touch your hand. Thank you for touching mine. You have no idea. I hope we can meet someday. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Truly.

“Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.”

To my friends: I hope you know who you are. I wish I could name each and every one of you individually. Some of you have been around for years. Some of you came back into my life. Some of you I recently met, but you are my dearest friends. I would not be here without you. Supportive. Loving. Kind. Messages. Phone calls. Checking in. I am so grateful. 

“Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.”

IMG_2071To my family: From day one. You have been there for me. I remember calling my mom and dad. Screaming. Sobbing. They were in the parking lot at Costco. But they stopped. And they have stopped every time since. My brother, Michael. Waiting outside my garage. Would not let me walk into my house alone. My sister-in-law, Cindy not far behind. My sister, Suzy, always there for me. And all my other siblings. Larry, Ellen, Linda. My nieces, nephews. Extended family. Salt Lake City. Always there for me. Always. A phone call. An email. A text. Whatever I needed. Never too early. Never too late. Thank you.

To my kids: No words. I am so blessed. Where would I be without you? Lost. In more ways than I can imagine. You have let me cry. Laugh. Share. You walked with me through the toughest roads. We’ve walked the roads together. And we will continue climbing mountains, forging valleys. Holding hands. Wrapping our arms around each other. You are my rocks. There are no words of thanks. But I know it’s not necessary either. You each have a piece of your dad in you. Even you, Tyler (I know you are reading this.) His courage. His perseverance. His integrity. His compassion. And, most certainly, his heart. I would not be here today without you. Thank you for giving me strength every day. To smile. To laugh. To move forward. To live. I love you. We will be okay. Because we always have each other. IMG_0945

“Make it a habit to tell people thank you. To express your appreciation, sincerely and without the expectation of anything in return. Truly appreciate those around you, and you’ll soon find many others around you. Truly appreciate life, and you’ll find that you have more of it.”

one more day

One More Day

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

Dear Gregger,

If I could have just one more day and
wishes did come true,
I’d spend every glorious moment
side by side with you.
Recalling all the years we shared
and memories we made,
how grateful I would be
to have just one more day.
Where the tears I’ve shed are
not in vain and only fall in bliss,
so many things I’d let you know
about the days you’ve missed.
I wouldn’t have to make pretend
you never went away,
how grateful I would be to
have just one more day.
When that day came to a close
and the sun began to set,
a million times I’d let you know
I never will forget.
The heart of gold you left behind
when you entered Heaven’s gate,
how grateful I would be to
have just one more day.

Scan 8Writing right now is hard. My mind is a mumble-jumble of emotions. And then it goes blank. I think about all the things I want to tell you. I think about where I was. Where I am. Where I’m going. It’s scary. I want to talk to you about it. I want you to tell me everything will be okay. I’m doing the right thing. I’m making the right choices. But you can’t. I want you to meet the new people in my life. My friends. You would love them. Amazing. Kind. Compassionate. Supportive. The kind of people you could hang with.

I want you to tell me you’re okay. I want to know you didn’t suffer. Are you at peace? If I know that, I’ll be better. Not okay. Not the kind of happy we had. But better. I made it through the firsts. There were so many. I never realized. They were tough. So hard not having you here. You’ve been my sidekick for 40 years. It’s like half of me is missing. How do I keep going without you? I wish you could tell me. I know you would have the answers. You always do. You always did. You were so smart. You didn’t think you were. But you were. About everything. I’m standing on my two feet because of you. You know that, though. And I bet you’re smiling. Punching those fists in the air. Cheering me on. 

2015-01-10 15.33.41I want to tell you about the kids. They are amazing. Each and every one of them. You would be so proud. They have each accomplished so much this past year. It wasn’t easy. They missed you. They miss you every day. I want you here to share the joy. We waited for these moments. Talked about them forever. Or so it seemed. And I’m so sad you’re missing it. But you must know. I believe you do.

Scan 70I’ve decided to celebrate YOU. No sadness. No mourning. No tears (if I can help it). I’m going to believe that is what you would want. Smiles. Cheer. Remembering the good times. So many. That’s what I want to do. That’s what feels right. Share the love. Share the joy. Share the good times we had together. I miss you. And I will love you forever. My heart is yours. If only I had one more day…

the first ten seconds

The First 10 Seconds

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

DSC_0058 (1)I have relived the events of August 30th so many times in my head. Rewind. Replay. I want a different ending. I don’t get one. I want answers. They don’t come. I heard the other day that within the first 10 seconds you have five immediate reactions to tragic news. I believe I experienced every single one.

Flee – Run away. As fast as I can. This cannot be happening. If I run, escape, it will not be real. It is a movie playing out on the shore. Someone else’s body. Not my husband’s. Who are these people wrapping their arms around me? Let me go. I’m okay. I can go back to my chair. Soak up the sun. Listen to the waves slapping the shore. Peace. If I run, I can hide. If I hide, it will be okay. But then I open my eyes. And see it is real. And I have to stay. I have to see. I have to believe.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Embrace – Hold on. To Greg. To Ashley, Ryan, Tyler. As tight as I possibly can. For the moment. Forever. Do Not Let Them Go. If I hold on tight enough, it will be okay. If I hold on tight enough, he will breathe. But he doesn’t. So I hold his hand. Cold. Getting colder. I hold it for as long as I can. And then they make me walk away.

Anger – Raging. Mad. You can’t do this to me. You can’t leave me like this. Alone. Come back. Now. You should have taken better care of yourself. I told you to rest. I told you not to work so hard. I told you I was worried. You should have listened. It’s not fair. But life is not always fair.

Sad – Devastated. Lost. Endless tears. Waves that keep hitting me over and over again. Harder and harder. Heart Aches. Pain. The sadness is overwhelming. I fall asleep. And suddenly awake. Terrified. What if he was in pain? What if he knew? The tears flow. They won’t stop. I’ve never felt such sadness. Will it never stop? Will it ever go away? This hurts. So bad. Go away. Sometimes I’m okay. And then it sweeps  in like a raging storm. It’s possessive. Stronger than me. I can’t win. So I let the tears flow. Until there’s nothing left. Because really, that’s all I can do. IMG_1383

Find a Solution – Why? Why does God take good people when there are so many bad ones left in the world? I search in my mind for things I’ve done wrong. Was I being punished? No. I need to be real. Rational. Sane. This is not part of someone’s will. Nor retribution for past behavior. It just is. But I need it to make sense. It never will. So I need to focus on how I can carry on the legacy of a man who deserved to live. A man who stood for goodness, kindness, honesty, and integrity. Maybe this is my purpose. If so, I must do it the best I can. To honor him. His memory. That is the ONLY solution. The ONLY answer. Be good. Do good. Live good. Love good. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.

“I’m Free”
Don’t grieve for me, for now I’m free.
I’m following the path God laid for me.
I took God’s hand when I heard the call;
I turned my back and left it all.
I could not stay another day
To laugh, to love, to work or play.
Tasks left undone must stay that way,
I found that place at the close of day.
If my parting has left a void,
Then fill it with remembered joy.
A friendship shared, a laugh, a kiss.
Ah, yes, these things, I too, will miss.
Be not burdened with times of sorrow,
I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow.
My life’s been full, I savored much,
Good friends, good times, a loved one’s touch.
Perhaps my time seemed all too brief;
don’t lengthen it now with undue grief.
Lift up your heart and share with me,
God wanted me now, God set me free.”
― Harold S. Kushner

looking-back

Looking Back…

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

IMG_1473For 51 weeks, 357 days, 8568 hours, 514,080 minutes, 30,844,800 seconds, I have tried to look forward. Be positive. Strong. But the memories are smacking me in the face. One year ago we left for the trip of our dreams. 12 days of “happy time.” Together time. Family time. Hawaii. Beach. Sunshine. Sunsets. In a heartbeat, our lives changed.

One day before we left, I posted this on my FB wall. “Everyone will go through some hard times at some point. Life isn’t easy. Just something to think about..did you know the people that are the strongest are usually the most sensitive? Did you know the people who exhibit the most kindness are the first to get mistreated? Did you know the ones who take care of others all the time are usually the ones who need it the most? Did you know the three hardest things to say are ‘I love you,’ ‘I’m sorry,’ and ‘help me?’ Sometimes just because a person looks happy, you have to look past their smile to see how much pain they may be in. We all need positive intentions right now. Give a moment of support to all of those who have family problems, health struggles, job issues, worries of any kind and just needs to know that someone cares. Do it for all of us, for nobody is immune.” Strange when I think about what was in front of me. Was this a premonition? Was I subconsciously preparing myself for the nightmare I would face 9 days later? While I know there is no “truth,” I can’t help but seek it. While I know not to search for “whys,” I can’t help but look for answers.  IMG_1246

On that same day 6 years ago, I wrote: “Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it. We have 86,400 seconds today – why not use one of those to say “thank you” to someone we love?” These were all lessons to myself. Reminders when I got stuck. Took Gregger for granted. My kids. My friends. My family. As the “anniversary” edges closer, I just want to say “thank you, Gregger.” Thank you for being you. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for loving our family. Thank you for giving us a beautiful life. A life for us to share together. A place to grow. Become better people. And learn. About each other. I am courageous because of you. You are my heart. You are my soul. Your arms comfort me. Awake. Asleep. I feel your presence. Life was not always easy. But that’s okay. Life is not about being easy. You made my dreams come true. You were my prince charming. And always will be. If I could have just one more day, there are so many things I would say and do. I would wrap you in my arms and never let you go. I would tell you over and over, “I love you. I am so grateful for you. I was blessed the day I met you. And I was blessed for a lifetime.” I would hold your hand so tight it would hurt. And I would not let you walk into that water…

never let them go

shining brightest in heaven

Stars in Heaven…Shining Brightest

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

Scan 17In these days leading up to the “anniversary,” I keep going back to the beginning. The moment I spotted Greg. And I just knew. 41 years ago. Bushy-haired guy, beer in hand, hanging at the pool. He never knew what hit him. And it hit him hard. He didn’t stand a chance. Locked him out one night. Talked the night through. One date. And the rest was history. Inseparable. Partners. Lovers. Friends.

My grandmother used to say, “You need to get down on your hands and knees. Every night. And pray. You need to thank God for giving Greg to you.” I resented it. I thought, “What about me?” Shouldn’t he thank God for me? Wasn’t I good enough? I didn’t get it. But as the years went by, I understood. He was one of the “good guys.” He was special.

IMG_1704It was the simple things:
1. Holding hands. Walking down the street. In the grocery store. In the car. Everywhere. It just felt good. Connected.
2. Helping out. Emptying the trash. Clearing the table. Picking up dog poop. Yucky job. But he did it. Sharing. Doing it together.
3. The Little things. Putting out my coffee cup. Every morning.
4. Laughter. Silly, goofy, simple fun.
5. Cuddles. Hugs. Watching reality TV he hated or shows we loved together! It didn’t matter.
6. Kissing. Before he left. When he walked in the door. And in between. I miss those kisses.
7.“I love you.” He said it A LOT!  On the phone, text, email, cards. He never let me forget it. His last words. They’ll stay with me forever.
8. Surprises. So many. Some for occasions. Some for nothing at all. That’s what made them extra special. That’s what made HIM super special.
9. My cheerleader. Greg was my BIGGEST supporter. Whatever I tried to do, he pushed me to be better.
10. My best friend. He listened. The good. The bad. The ugly. He didn’t always “hear” me, but when it was important, he stopped. That counted. I mattered. I knew.

me and greg 11People used to say, “You are so lucky. He’s so calm. Composed.” And I wanted to respond, “You don’t live with him.” That wasn’t fair. I was his outlet. His sounding board. Everyone needs one. He was mine. So WE were lucky. Blessed. He wasn’t perfect. Neither was I. “A perfect marriage is just two imperfect people who refuse to give up on each other.” That was the two of us. There for each other through thick and thin. Richer and poorer. Sickness and health. Good times and bad. We lived through it all. And we made it right to the end. Smiling. Laughing. Loving. Always loving.