February 14, 2013 – YA Chit Chat

“I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you for the part of me that you bring out.” ~ Roy Croft

When I was young I used to eat, dream and breathe the whole love/marriage connection thing. I dreamed about my wedding day a lot. I always had a beautiful white gown, full and flowing, with a veil a mile long. The event would take place in a magnificent castle garden in Spring. I would have a classical string quartet for the wedding and Bread and Elton John would perform at the reception (hey, I grew up in the 60s and 70s). My cake would be six tiers, each one a different flavor to wake up the senses. My dream husband would be tall, dark-haired, green-eyed; a gentle but confident soul, a man who loved me for me for all my faults and all my attributes. He would be funny, someone who longed to be with me as much as I wanted to be with him when we were apart. Someone to grow old with, to share good and bad times with, to laugh with, to love, honor and cherish.

Funny, but neither of my two marriages ended up anything like my dream. In fact, they were quite the opposite, yet, through all the heartache, I remain a hopeless romantic. And I owe it all to a man who entered my life between my two husbands.

Six foot four, dark brown hair, emerald-green eyes, he was a dream brought to life. He was a Tennessee gentleman with a voice as smooth as molasses, a heart the size of ten universes, and a smile that lit up a room. He wrote music, was a jazz musician by night, computer geek by day. He loved animals, kids, traveling, life, reading, but most of all he loved me…unconditionally. Just thinking of him even now makes my heart swell to the point it feels like it will burst. I still love him with every ounce of my being, not only for who he was, but who he helped me become. Sadly, he died in an auto accident 6 months after we met. Killed by a drunk driver. My life would never be the same.

Why God took him away I don’t understand. What I do know is this man’s love still burns bright within me. It sustains me, keeps me going; it is my beacon of light through the storms of my life. It is my strength. My rock. It is eternal, and it will be there waiting for me when I leave this life and pass into the next. What more could a hopeless romantic ask for?