Tag Archives: love

Letters to Diane – 7

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Hi Hon. Been thinking about you non-stop and adding that a chance to look you in the eyes would be nice. Not likely, I know, but I can wish.

Each day I encounter more evidence about how brave you are. First was a short discussion with Jennifer about a talk you had with the doctor on, or about, October 21st when he asked if you wanted to consider the suicide departure if the liver biopsy wasn’t encouraging. It’s my understanding that you vetoed that option. That just wasn’t you at all. You’re a fighter even when the odds were so drastically against you. I can only thank you for enduring the pain because I’m not sure how I would have reacted if suicide had been your choice.

Then, today, Carolann called to check on me and we had nice visit. She reminded me that we have a date on the 21st at Simms in Scappoose. We’ll, of course, be talking about you in that venue. The last time we were there, as I recall, was with this same group. It’s been a while, but I think I’m right.

What I learned from Carolann was a conversation she had with you at some point before all the turmoil started with the hospital visits. She said you shared that you didn’t want to “linger” which, you thought, would cause more turmoil in the family. You wanted to fight your way through this, and you knew it early on.

Because of that I’m more in awe of your will to endure whatever cancer could throw at you. Although there was no hope for a recovery, you gave it all you had, and then some.

I’m gushing, I know. But I’m so proud of you, I can’t help myself. For those of us who remain, you gave us a life lesson in how to deal with tragedy head on with dignity.

Going forward, I’m going to bask in the knowledge that of all the choices you could have made, you chose me. I loved every second of it.

Letters to Diane – 4

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It’s Sunday morning. The house is unusually quiet but it’s a welcome peacefulness The busy day we had yesterday was one of the hardest days of our lives, but we endured.

First, the simple act of waking up was tough knowing what the rest of the day held i store for us. You’re gone from us, but you are still very much alive within us. That was made evident by the people who showed up for your service yesterday. I don’t think anyone counted them. It wasn’t necessary. The church was full of people who love you and that was good.

There were very few people that I didn’t recognize but they filled in my memory gaps as they passed out of the church. Your Bunco Babes were there, as well as the PT Cruisers, and the Old Winnowbago Guys. I can’t categorize all the groups who were there right now, but the final view I had was a large group of folks who love you. The affiliation wasn’t as important as their presence.

After Pastor Ingrid got the service going our brave daughter made her way to the lectern and shared her memories of you. She was very brave and has assumed the matriarchal duties of our family with style. She really good at it. I know you already know this, but it still has to be said.

After Jennie, I found myself standing at the lectern, totally unprepared for the reason I was there. I had a couple pages of notes, but they just didn’t seem adequate enough for me to share my feelings about you. So, being true to myself, and you, I just winged it. Unless someone was recording my efforts those words are lost because I have no idea what I said. I rest comfortably, however, in the belief that let everyone know how important you are to me and pretty much everyone who’s heart you touched.

No matter where I go, I see and I feel the comfort of your touch beside me. As we walk, it’s so easy to feel our hands find each other and clasp together like we’ve done so many times before.

From the serious side of things, my mind wanders off to inappropriate areas where I asked Lydia if it’s too soon to start dating again. When I said that I was amazed about how wide she can open her eyes before realizing I was kidding, something I do a lot. It’s a defense mechanism and it changes the atmosphere very quickly.

As I continue to walk aimlessly through the remainder of my life I will be on alert for your touch.

I Love You.

Day 105 -Saturday – Football, Maybe

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Saturdays are usually my day to watch NCAA football, but Oregon had time off after winning the Big 10 conference championship game. We won’t see them again until the Rose Bowl on New Year’s Day. Until then I just kinda watch whoever shows up on the TV.

I actually started watching the Army vs. Navy game and saw Navy score first, but let it go when a movie came on that Diane had set to record. Since our Dish receiver only has one tuner we can’t record a show and watch a different channel. Diane was out at the time, replenishing our food and I know she would not have minded if I have cancelled the recording. It didn’t seem right, though, so I just let the system change channels. I heard later that Navy went on to win that game 31-13. How about that? The only other scores that sometimes interest me is when Notre Dame gets beat.

After Diane returned, we went off base and got the car washed because we’re going to church tomorrow in Saddle Brooke. This trip is so we can visit with pattyaz and her husband geneaz. With the use of very few brain cells I think most of you can interpret those names to be Patty and Gene. Patty is Diane’s legitimate cousin and, therefore, my cousin by marriage. Patty and I were also classmates all through high school in Scappoose. Unlike me, Patty paid attention in all her classes.

Because of our lack of activity this day, I don’t have any new photos, except for this stellar sunset. I’ll leave you with that.

Kinda nice, huh?

My Bride

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I’ve got nuthin’ today.

Except that Diane got a radical haircut. She’s been letting her hair grow because I like it long, but it’s been driving her nuts. I know she wanted it shorter, the way she’s had it most of her life, and I was selfish and stalled on giving her my blessing. I know she would never get it cut without my approval because she loves and respects me (most of the time).

So, today, after giving her some undeserved grief about it, which made me feel absolutely terrible, I sent her off to her barber with her knowing I was OK with whatever she wanted to do.

When she returned, she was a new person. The haircut it great, and she’s happy. Happy is the main part.

I loved her hair long, and I love her hair short, but, really, her hair isn’t a factor at all.

I love who she is.

Especially when who she is isn’t mad at me.