Dennis at 78

There's been so much going on around here the past few months that I totally forgot my husband's birthday today.  He would have been 78 years old and I wonder how he'd be living his life.  I bet he'd still be going to the gym regularly and still sailing but maybe not alone.  He'd be taking a great interest in Nolan and Nash and teaching them what he could.  Dennis was a strong family man who was a hands on father and grandfather, involved in his family's life but never intrusive.

10 years ago, he was on the downslide of his bout with esophageal cancer, one that he couldn't win.  Dennis never spoke to me about how he was feeling, keeping his thoughts and fears to himself until the very end.  That was the kind of man he was and it must have made his dying all the more difficult for him to manage.  I wish we had communicated better but that's just the way it was.

Kim, Cindy, and I will visit him today.  I hadn't planned to do so because I get very angry with the injustice of his death whenever I've gone to the cemetery.  Some people gain comfort but I only experience anger at the fates.  I know only his ashes are there and he's gone on to something better but I still think he got a rotten deal out of life.  He worked hard, supported and loved his family, was an honest citizen, and the most intelligent man I've ever known.  He deserved better than to be limited to 68 years on this earth.

Anyway, I'll try to control myself and take comfort in his final resting place...one that Kim and I chose for him.  His ashes are in a wall of niches overlooking the bay where he sailed.  I put both his and my wedding rings in a velvet bag inside the niche that awaits me when my time comes.

Happy birthday, Dennis.  I hope you're somewhere beautiful, happy and healthy.