Ten years ago, I lost my wife, Renee. She died giving life to our son, Henry. Her loss tore a large ragged hole in me. Over the years, the hole has healed somewhat. I seem to have come to terms with the tragedy of losing her. I wouldn't call it acceptance, more like a truce with the universe. I will never forgive it for taking someone so pure and good from me.
When it happened, a small army of women, led by Renee’s mom and my own mother, picked me up and cared for me until I could return to the world of the living. Over the years, family and friends, both old and new, were there for Henry and me. I had two more kids, twin power-cuddlers, and I eventually fell into the arms of another amazing woman, my wife, Gina. It has been a long time since Renee died, and a lot of life has happened.
As this anniversary approached, I wanted to write something to recognize the day and honor Renee’s memory. But, every time I sat down to write, the pain would come back. Each time I got close to really remembering what she was like, I would have to stop and cry for a while. I must have written 10 or 15 pages, but I failed to capture why Renee was so special. I have concluded that my writing can never do her justice.
If you never knew her, then I guess the closest thing I can show you is her son. Henry has grown to be very much like his mother. While he definitely looks like her, it’s his personality that is most like Renee. For instance, he is a ten year old boy who would rather draw googly eyes on an orange than play war. His constant compassion for others has made him a real friend to each of his classmates. His goofy and uninhibited sense of humor seems to always trump his initial shyness. His greatest joy is making someone smile. Renee is in him and I always smile when I catch a glimpse of her.
I keep trying, but I simply cannot convey the magnitude of what was lost when I lost Renee. So, instead of writing another page that I cry over and then quickly delete, I will simply say that I miss her. I miss her dearly.
I keep trying, but I simply cannot convey the magnitude of what was lost when I lost Renee. So, instead of writing another page that I cry over and then quickly delete, I will simply say that I miss her. I miss her dearly.
