Yesterday afternoon, my first wife died. Cancer. She had been fighting it these last 4 years. We met on a blind date to an LSU game, married a year later; college kids more in heat than love. Somehow, we made it last 12 years and four children, all grown up, married and productive.
Samantha, my oldest daughter, asked me to write something for the obituary…
Borrowing from Erich Segal: “What can you say about a twenty-five year old woman who has died?”
Sharon hadn’t been 25 for a while, but the question remains, marinated through all the after-years with the trauma and unavoidable acrimony. But those memories have no place in obituaries.
“What’s too painful to remember, we simply choose to forget”.
I suspect most divorced adults get there eventually. We did. Sadly, the kids don’t always make the trip. They’re the ones who live through the indelible trauma; the ‘collateral damage’ from their parents’ poor decisions. There is no atoning for that.
In the big picture, Sharon was a good wife whose patience with her local ‘rock star’ finally ran out; a doting, motherly mother who, in earlier times, would have had a helicopter.
As a nurse, she was admired and respected by peers and patients – as she deserved. Those who loved her, loved her intensely, unequivocally. The coming “Celebration of Life” in her honor will be crowded. I’ll be there.
Thanks for reading this far
BW
While I’m tending to things, consider this….
Do we really believe in freedom?
Or do we only believe in freedom when it applies to people who agree with us?
Do we trust people we fundamentally disagree with to remain free citizens?
Or do we believe they must be controlled through laws, censorship, surveillance, or social pressure because they are too dangerous to be trusted with liberty?
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