One night, as my wife was dying, I laid beside her holding her hand and told her how much she meant to me.
- How she showered me with unconditional love.
- How gave me to the self confidence to succeed.
- How I wouldn’t trade our lives for anyone else’s despite the tough times we had been through.
- How nobody made me feel the way she did and that she was my one true love.
She hushed me and said,
“Do you think I don’t know how much you love me? I know and I love you too.”
I miss Ellen. I wish she hadn’t died before me.
I dream about her often. Some mornings I wake up remembering dreams where we were talking, eating dinner and even arguing. Those are wonderful memories.
Other times, I dream of her but also realize she’s dead (or dying) and nobody else recognizes this except me. Remembering those dreams is dreadful.
I think about Ellen all the time. I believe she would have liked my new house and neighborhood. She would have loved Wiggles. She would mercilessly tease me for selling our two old cars and buying a new truck & camper then selling them at a loss and buying a new car within 12 months after being a “diehard cheapskate” for so many years.
I wish I had retired before she got sick. It would have been fun to have a few years stress-free from work together. I didn’t think we could afford to, but I was assuming she’d live at least another ten years and wanted to ensure her and our financial security. Now she’s dead so none of that matters.
Seeing how much I love not working, I’m grateful that I was able to support her quitting work in 2000. This morning I realized that was a wonderful gift I gave her for 18 years. It made me smile to think of it.
It’s hard to believe she’s been gone for over two years.