Our Love Story: Journaling through the Pain that is Grief

As part of my healing, I am writing our love story. I have decided to share it here because I thought it might help others through the commitment that is marriage as well as grief.

As I was writing, I noticed that I was writing to him. As the reader of this blog, I felt that you should know the voice so that it would make better sense.

The Beginning

Our love story officially began on June 15, 1982. A few days before, I was sitting with Bob’s brother Jim and his girlfriend at the time, and my sister Kim and her boyfriend at the time. Jim’s girlfriend and Kim’s boyfriend happened to be brother and sister, so we were at their house just hanging out. I was lamenting that I was the only one not coupled up. Jim suggested that I go out on a blind date with his brother as he was on recruit duty for the NAVY and was in town. Jim had talked about him so glowingly that it didn’t take much encouragement. Bob had made sure the younger two, Jim and his little sister, had everything that he didn’t have in high school—class rings, money to go to prom, etc. I so admired his generosity from the beginning. He was so Godly! When Jim showed me your official NAVY picture, I was excited to meet the handsome man in the photo.

You arrived promptly at 6:00 and knocked on the door yourself. I thought it was pretty confident that you didn’t send Jim to the door or even have him walk up with you. I was still getting ready, so Kim answered the door with Mom following to meet you as well. You handled that with the grace that I soon learned was one of your greatest strengths. You were such a people person!

Once I came up (about five minutes later), you walked me out to your Honda Accord. You opened my door and made sure I was safe, then went around to the driver’s seat. We were then on our way to the Huntington Mall to watch Rocky III. On our way, I noticed some pictures laying on the console in the middle of our seats. They were of you working in the Data Center on the ship, but computers were brand new (Remember this is 1982) so I had never seen a Data Center. I asked, “So what is it you do?” You politely explained computers and computer storage.

Then, we were at the mall….

The Early Days: Learning and Growing Together

As we walked through the mall, I was struck by how easily our conversation flowed. We talked about everything—your work, my studies, our families. You made me laugh with your witty remarks and charmed me with your stories from the NAVY. It was clear from the start that you were someone special. There was a natural connection that made it feel like we had known each other for years. Watching Rocky III together, I couldn't help but glance over at you, wondering if this handsome, kind man could really be interested in me.

As the evening came to an end, you dropped Jim off at his girlfriend's house and drove me home.  We sat on the couch in the living room talking for hours. (Poor Jim - sitting on the sidewalk outside his girlfriend's house for what he has maintained was hours.)

Building a Life Together

Our relationship grew quickly from that first date. We spent as much time together as possible, despite the challenges of your NAVY schedule. Every moment we shared was filled with love and laughter. We supported each other through the highs and lows, always finding strength in our partnership.

Facing Grief Together

As the years went by, we faced many challenges, but nothing could have prepared me for the days in and out of the hospital.  When you finally had a true diagnosis, it was too late.  The news was devastating, and I felt like my world had been turned upside down. But even in the face of such a difficult diagnosis, you remained strong and optimistic, always putting our family first.

 You spoke often about your faith and your belief that we would be together again in Heaven. Yet, I was so angry that I was going to have to live this life without you that I didn't allow your strength and courage to support me as it should.  I had hope, but it was misplaced. My hope was in your healing - that you would be healed this side of heaven.  I so wish I would have allowed your strength to give me the hope and resilience I needed to carry on.  I carried on, because life does go on.  Yet, I will forever regret that I didn't allow us to have that fairy tale ending.  Still, you forgave me.  You faced death head on - more concerned with me and the children than yourself.  I will forever love you!!!

Moving Forward

Now, as I navigate life without you, I find comfort in our love story. Writing to you helps me feel connected to you, even though you are no longer physically here. Sharing our story with others is a way to honor your memory and the incredible love we shared.



Grief is a journey, and it is not an easy one. But I take solace in knowing that our love continues to guide me, giving me strength and hope for the future. Just as that tree grew around the piano, I will continue to grow and thrive, carrying your love with me every step of the way.

To those who are also navigating the difficult path of grief, I hope our story offers some comfort and inspiration. Love does not end with death; it continues to live on in our hearts and memories. And while the journey may be challenging, it is also filled with moments of beauty and grace, as we honor those we have lost and carry their love with us.