Three weeks ago, the love of my life took her final breath on this planet. It’s taken this long for me to process what is now my new reality. On November 29, 1980, we exchanged vows in the pouring rain at Patrick’s Point State Park in Northern California. This, after meeting at work and discovering an instant connection that would lead to our first date…
Which led to merging our three kids (both of us were single parents), after saying our ‘I Do’s’.
We both overheard comments from our ‘friends’ that predicted doom for our relationship. “It’ll never last…” was a common sentiment. Was it a ‘storybook marriage’? No. I doubt that even the happiest of unions could live up to that image. Yes, we encountered roadblocks along the way… But… the only obstacle we couldn’t overcome… was the cancer that took her life after almost 45 years of enduring love.
Deborah supported my radio career, and managed to keep everything together with the many moves around the country that were typical of this profession. Ownership changes and subsequent management decisions have famously taken it’s toll on the programming staffs, either voluntarily, or in too many cases, pink slips. Our kids, while not always happy with being uprooted, have admitted they became stronger and better people for their experiences along the way.
She was a woman of many interests. She went back to school and became a nurse, graduating at the top of her class. Later, she would become a published writer, lending her expertise of antiques and collectibles for a national publication for several years.
Her fascination with ‘repurposing’ transformed our homes with unique items. She researched thoroughly the topics that interested her. I would always shake my head at those who would seek her advice, then, for whatever reason they’d choose to ignore it. Invariably, her advice would prove to be spot on, and their decision to dismiss it would prove costly.
Now that I am going through the boxes filled with memories of our life together, I’ve assembled a few here that are special to me, as we shared moments that remain precious to this day. There are stories that we shared privately relating to them, and will remain so.
From the moment she walked into that radio station lobby in Eureka, California in 1979, until her battle ended three weeks ago, Deborah was the most beautiful woman on earth in my eyes. Inside and out, I couldn’t have been more blessed to have her as my partner. She’s watching over the kids and I from a much better place. Her picture just before her first chemo treatment in May of last year is how I choose to remember her.
