It was 20 years ago today that my wife, Barb, died after a long and difficult struggle with breast cancer. Twenty years. I can’t believe it. I sometimes think what I have packed into those twenty years and it saddens me to know that she did not get that time on this earth, too. She never got to cuddle her five grandchildren or to continue to provide nurturing maternal love to her kids who are now all hovering around 40 years old. They have gone half their lives without their mom. I feel sorry for them, too, for this. Dad’s are great but nobody comforts like a mom.
Occasionally, Barb still appears in my dreams. She is healthy and part of the action, rarely says very much but she is just … there. I think that is kind of nice having her still hovering in my subconscious – there when I need her, just like when she was alive.
In those twenty years I have moved on, I think, rather well. I made lemonade, as the saying goes. With time I gradually morphed into a very happy and fulfilling life on my own. But I am always thankful for what she gave to me – many years of companionship and partnership, my cherished kids, and now grandkids that all have little bits of her thrown in.
Anyone who knew her will think about her today, remembering her fondly and with a bit of sadness as well. Grateful, however, for having had her for part of our lives as a mother, wife, friend.