I had the privilege to live the most wonderful love story with a beautiful man named Richard. We were basically children when we met (18 years old), and somehow, I knew he was “the one.” When I got home, even my mother recognized that something was different and new. That a connection had been made. It was the same with her and my dad. W…
I had the privilege to live the most wonderful love story with a beautiful man named Richard. We were basically children when we met (18 years old), and somehow, I knew he was “the one.” When I got home, even my mother recognized that something was different and new. That a connection had been made. It was the same with her and my dad. With my grandmother and my grandfather. We dated. I went to college. We dated other people. But we always laughed, had much to say to each other, went on adventures, and started to grow up together. We were still basically children when we got married (22 years old). I have three very best days of my life, and my wedding day has always been number one. Our marriage wasn’t all butterflies and bells, but we were always best friends, even during those times we weren’t really lovers. We did everything together, and Richards wonderful, gregarious nature was my shield and confidence in those social situations I would normally preferred to have avoided. As long as he was there with me, I was fine. Richard never met a stranger. Then, one day, 13+ years ago, he dropped dead. Too young. Too soon. I didn’t just lose a husband, I lost my very best friend who had been by my side for 30 years from the time we met. I know no other relationship will come close to what we had.
I had the privilege to live the most wonderful love story with a beautiful man named Richard. We were basically children when we met (18 years old), and somehow, I knew he was “the one.” When I got home, even my mother recognized that something was different and new. That a connection had been made. It was the same with her and my dad. With my grandmother and my grandfather. We dated. I went to college. We dated other people. But we always laughed, had much to say to each other, went on adventures, and started to grow up together. We were still basically children when we got married (22 years old). I have three very best days of my life, and my wedding day has always been number one. Our marriage wasn’t all butterflies and bells, but we were always best friends, even during those times we weren’t really lovers. We did everything together, and Richards wonderful, gregarious nature was my shield and confidence in those social situations I would normally preferred to have avoided. As long as he was there with me, I was fine. Richard never met a stranger. Then, one day, 13+ years ago, he dropped dead. Too young. Too soon. I didn’t just lose a husband, I lost my very best friend who had been by my side for 30 years from the time we met. I know no other relationship will come close to what we had.
That sound bitter sweet. So much pain of loss but amazing love and memories of 30 years. Thanks for sharing.
Goosebumps. I'm so sorry for your loss, so happy for you that you had such a love.