This isn't about me, it's about Barb. After 11 months of battling two different cancers, her husband has died.
I found out though a pair of emails last night. I don't know how she's disposing of his remains, but we're celebrating his life with a memorial service at their favorite restaurant in mid-September.
She describes herself as "heartbroken" and "adrift." I am overwhelmed ... I don't know why. After all:
1) We've all known this was coming for a long time. It is not a shock.
2) He suffered so -- in an out of the hospital like a yo-yo, reduced to a pin cushion for IVs. I truly believe this is a blessing for him.
I think it's because their love story was so inspiring to me. Barb waited until she was over 50 to get married, and it was delightful to see her so happy. To many, Barb is viewed as a tough and successful career woman. Her husband tapped into a sense of fun that not everyone gets to see. He encouraged her to play. I remember her delight when she came up with an elaborate scheme to give him a Fender guitar for his Christmas. (Read it here.)
And now it's over. So while Barb and her husband are certainly in my prayers, I can't deny the loss I feel, too. I'm worried about my friend, of course, and angry that the world has been cheated of their happy ending.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
I'm so sorry for your loss. As it is your loss, too. Being such a comfort to Barb throughout this illness has been a blessing. You are a wonderful friend.
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