Gary Giancarlo

My Dearest Sweetheart,
I was asked to put together your "story" to celebrate you and the amazing life you had. I was also challenged to make it at least 6000 words. I know you are smiling and rolling your eyes right now at that. You always told me that if I were put in solitary confinement for a few months, I would come out singing and telling stories and smiling, so 6000 words seems like a piece of cake.
But I found myself at a complete loss of how to start. How do I talk about you in a black- and white-list fashion? When you are so much more than just a series of dates, accomplishments, and related people? Anyone who knows you knows that just does not even come close to describing you. You are someone that was always bigger than life. That drew people in as soon as they met you. That made it cool to be inappropriate in your sarcastic, teasing way (sorry, had to throw that out there.) So, I decided to do what I've done before with you. Write you a letter. And share my thoughts. And talk about all the incredible aspects and memories of you and our life together.
The last few days, I've found myself thinking about the wonderful stories you have had that you would tell in such a great manner. You would turn to me and say, "you tell it," but inevitably you would jump in and "tell it the right way" and it was always perfect.
I loved hearing stories of growing up in Cicero, with your sister, Barbara, and your mother, Kathleen, and father, Gerard. You would talk about being just a mile or so away from where MLK marched through your town, and how you wanted to slip away to watch because you knew it "seemed like something big." You were a Cicero kid.
You moved to Glen Ellyn with your family when you were still young. This is where the stories really began. You told me about your dogs, including that beautiful Weimaraner, and "Pete" the Poodle, and how he would spit his tooth out at your feet after you encouraged him to go tackle the stray dog that entered your backyard. But one of my favorite stories you told was how you
met your longtime friend, Michael Cassidy. You were supposed to walk the dogs, but you really did not want to; so, you decided to ride your bike and walk them at the same time. Michael saw you and couldn't figure out what you were doing, but the rest is history. This same bike and route would take you to the bakery on Sunday mornings, when you may or may not have dropped the bakery, scooped it up, scraped it off, and brought it home anyway. Who would know?
Your days were filled with some of your best memories of fishing in Canada' with your dad and all the 'guys.' You loved being one of them; yet still being "the kid." Many days spent on the lakes, eating shore lunches, sneaking a sip of that special brew, falling asleep in the boat; and catching those great fish with your dad. Your love for fishing never went away. Your poles are still by the door, ready to go.
But you also spent time with your friends, Joe, Rich, Michael, and all the other "boys" too many to mention. Baseball was a love, and you were good!! Still love the pics and trophies out next to your glove on our shelf. And, as you told me, you were "great" in all sports. But the whole working within the rules of a team just was not you. You would try out and make the team, and that was the accomplishment for you. I remember the first time you shared that with me
and thinking "That is so you!" Didn't surprise me in the least!
The best part of your young life though, was the time you had with Grandpa Nick. You absolutely adored him! You admired him; and loved spending time with him. He would let you "shave" with him, giving you shaving cream, letting
you use his brush, as part of your regular ritual together. I wish I could have met him. You told me he lost his leg in a cable car accident. He would go to work, standing, as an elevator operator, even though he didn't have a prosthetic leg. I know how much he inspired you. I think this grew as you got older and went through your own obstacles to overcome. I know he was always in the back of your mind. He sounds like an amazing, incredible man. Just like you.
You had tons of stories from high school that we will not go into here. You managed to be the "cool kid" with such a varied group of friends. A wonderful trait of yours that would continue throughout the years. There wasn't a group of people that you would ever feel uncomfortable with. You had the job at the gas station (even though you admitted to leaving the job for a little while to ride your friend's motorcycle). And how do I not include the Gremlin? All your friends knew you with that car! When what you really wanted was a Vette in competition orange (fast forward; this will come up again.) You told great stories about your family being friends with Ted Williams. Someone who stayed close to your family and you for a long time. (and yes, your favorite photo of him "flipping your dad off" is still on our sofa table).
But by the end of high school, your life changed forever. 18th Birthday. You made a conscious decision not to drive that night, and everyone knows the rest of what happened. You weren't expected to survive and leave the hospital. Then it was you wouldn't make it past the first year; then you wouldn't make it to 30; and so on, and so on. You have spent your entire life, 50 years later, "proving them wrong." You fought for everything, and worked your behind off to achieve what you were told you would not. You were stubborn, and it paid off. That is what got you so very far. That, my love, is what has inspired so many people for so many years. That is one of the reasons I fell in love with you.
Well, and those eyes. Can we talk about your eyes? Insert heart melting here.
So, here you are at 18. In Rehab at Rehab Institute of Chicago. And you would manage to break rules. I know this is a surprise to many. I loved hearing your stories about the 6 months you spent there. Your fondness for the medical profession really became solidified there (as I say this sarcastically) as you would argue with those assigned to you. You were faced with conversations you never should have had to be part of, let alone at 18. But this was also where you started to take control. Deciding what information, you were being given was useful, and what you would modify. Before long, you were developing your own tools, designing your bed, and a variety of other items
that were going to make life easier not only for you, but for others in similar situations. You were never one to just acquiesce to the way you were told things "Should be," always striving to make it easier, and increase your and others independence. Many years later, when I took a supervisor position at RIC, I was so very proud to meet people who worked there with you and shared the wonderful things they remembered and enjoyed about you! I have always said, once someone meets you, it just is not possible to forget you!
Life was an adjustment after rehab. You went back to school to graduate (yes, there was that one high school teacher who failed you in her class, so you had to go to another school for a semester to get your high school diploma. I know how much that annoyed you!!!). You then got your associate degree from
College of DuPage.
And you set goals. And plotted how to achieve them. You were on a mission to be independent. You learned how to drive. You got your first van in that beautiful burgundy red. And then the world learned to be ready for you; as you were not staying still.
And you had fun. We should probably just leave it all at that.
But what also happened during this time is your family grew. Your beautiful niece, Lindsey was born and you were such the proud Uncle! You told me you took her everywhere with you. She quickly became your little buddy. To this day, your wallet is filled with pics of her as a little girl. You would do anything for your niece; and she adores you. Your bond is one I have loved watching.
But there were some other things happening during this time. A significant one was that you were determined to build your own home. And you did. Against all odds. You created your home so that you could live alone independently. It did not come easy. The builder for the Old Sawmill subdivision in Naperville, Illinois for some reason did not want to build for you. In fact, he told you that there were no homes available. It wasn't until your friend went to the same builder asking for the same home with the same design modifications and was readily told that absolutely, he would be happy
to do it that it was confirmed what was happening. Suddenly, there were homes available. He was able to do whatever you wanted. And decided to throw in a few bonuses for free. You never back down from a fight, Gary. And you always succeeded. The home at 471 Nantucket was your home. It was the perfect home for you to start your life alone.
Sometimes the best laid plans do not work out exactly the way you have planned.
November 19th,1983. I certainly didn't realize when Diane Fox and I decided to go out on a Saturday night instead of doing our workout that my life would change forever in the best possible way. Diane and I were roommates at 4 Lakes apartment complex in Lisle, Illinois. We decided to go to the Four Lakes Pub that was right at the complex. As the night went on. I had no idea that you were there with Joe Duffy. I remember walking back from the bathroom and hearing somebody call my name. Being the little socialite that I was at that time, I turned and waved and was talking to them as I was walking backwards. This happened to be right at the same time that you decided you were bored at the pub and you were leaving. Everybody knows what happened then. I am walking backwards, and I fell literally right into your lap. I remember getting those butterflies in my stomach immediately. I loved it when you told people that I fell for you as soon as I met you. Because the truth was, I did. Did I mention those eyes of yours? But there was so much more.
November 26th, 1983. Our first date. You always teased me about how I remembered these dates so quickly; but it is hard to forget when they are the most amazing days. (and need I remind you that you are the one that could remember exactly what we were wearing that night?) You came in to see me at work versus calling me to ask me out for that first date. And I remember just being so flustered and excited at the same time. You later told me that it was a test. That she wanted to see how I would react to you. Versus just calling and not being able to get the full reaction. I guess I must have passed.
You took me out to dinner. We just had this amazing conversation filled with laughter the entire time. Remember I mentioned that competition orange
corvette? You told me that one day I would buy one for you. You also told me that Christopher Reeves was your brother, and that secretly you were Superman. This turned out to be more of a true statement in multiple ways than even you imagined. Seemed like things were going well at that point. I have to say I was a bit surprised when what I thought was unexpected and coincidental, your friend Michael showed up. I found out later in the night that you had asked him to come just in case the evening didn't go so well. Turns out that completely backfired on you. I had the best time listening to all the stories and dirt about you from Michael that you most obviously did not want him telling me. That's when I knew. If you were brave enough to sit through that, that you were pretty special and definitely somebody I could fall in love with.
Fast forward to November 26th, 2024. That morning, I was thinking about this exact story; how we always call Michael on that day to remind him of the evening. But this year, 41 years later, I was calling him for a different reason. This date is one that will remain cemented in my heart. I still cannot believe that a day that has such wonderful memories of a start to an amazing life together, also now brings painful memories of the last day together.
But back to your story.
At first, you tried to play it very cool. We would go out one night on the weekend because the other night was reserved for you going out with the boys. You worked hard to assert your independence in maintaining a "distance" in the relationship; but I saw through it. It was not long before you introduced me to your niece. And your sister and brother-in-law. And eventually, even though it took longer, your parents. I was spending more time at your home than my apartment, and it became obvious to both of us that I should just move in. (After all, who else would help you figure out if something should be heated in the microwave for a regular minute? Or a microwave minute?) There was one agreement on moving in; we would be engaged that year; and to quote you in your own words, "before the weather got cold again."
Shortly after moving in, the big decision happened. Time to get a puppy together!! I remember us scouring books on traits of breeds, medical issues personalities, shedding, looking at everything! We both thought a Dalmatian would be great! We even went to a dog show to check them out, but when we both ended up covered with dog hair, that idea was nixed quickly. We moved on to bull terriers. Spuds McKenzie was all over commercials at the time, and who could resist! We went to a home that had puppies for sale. We both thought it was odd that they told us to wait in the garage; and closed the door behind us. All of a sudden, the door of the house opened, and the puppy came flying out, running at full speed. Before we could react, she had jumped up on your legs, and we both quickly realized your brakes were not on because you flew across that garage backwards so fast! It didn't take long before we caught each other's glances, trying extremely hard to not just burst out in laughter imagining what would have happened if the mom dog had done the same to you; and politely told the family we would get back to them.
This eventually brought us to looking at wire fox terriers. All boxes were checked. And you found someone who had advertised a 6-month-old puppy was available. You suggested we go check her out; and we did. Remember walking up to the house? The parents came out a bit timidly; followed by their Airedale and "Foxy" hanging on to his ear, just swinging as the Airedale walked. You could see in that dog's face how he was pleading with us to take her home. We both fell in love immediately; and as we turned to leave, we could hear the children inside screaming, and the parents, who looked initially relieved, were now pounding on the door to the house as the not so happy children had locked them out. But it was when we got to the truck that we really discovered what Spike (we had the name picked out already no matter which dog we ended up getting) was really going to be like. While we filled the truck with gas, you noticed her standing at the window looking up. She was following an airplane in the evening sky. I remember you telling me this is not a normal dog. And she wasn't.
Everyone loved Spike. She would watch TV with us; and run to the door to go outside, grab a drink, and get back in front of the TV before the commercial was over. She was your protector. I remember the story you told me of one morning when she started frantically licking your face and would not stop until you got out of bed, got downstairs, and looked out the front window. We were having our driveway paved so we had parked your van in the Cul de sac the night before. She was frantic that it should not be there, until you told her it was ok; and she could rest. She went everywhere with you in that van! And we can't forget how you were interviewed by the paper because she won first place in the 365 Dog Days Calendar!
We threw such fun parties. We ticked off our neighbors when we set off fireworks because we didn't realize it was causing flashbacks for the wife. And we just had a fantastic summer, the three of us.
October 5th, 1987
We have been dating for 4 years now. We moved in together, had our Spike, and we were sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner when the weather came on. Record cold that night. Temperatures were dropping. But we were not engaged yet. Hamm. You let me go on and on about the conversation we had had in the spring. I remember dramatically getting up and showing you the calendar, month by month of when the weather was warm. You just sat with your head leaning on your hand patiently listening to me until I was done. And then you walked away. I was just so upset at that moment that I wasn't paying attention when you came back to the kitchen. I pretended to be engrossed in the John Belushi movie "Neighbors." Eventually, you cleared your throat and asked me to turn around. It took me a bit to notice, but, placed on top of a loaf of wheat bread, was a blue sapphire engagement ring. You had had it hidden for months in your drawer; and were planning to surprise me at dinner in a restaurant. You chose blue sapphire because you wanted our engagement to be different than everyone else. I didn't realize that was truly emblematic of our love as well.
You decided that you "wanted me to enjoy" the engagement process; and yes, it became a lengthy process. 22 months!! But I do have to say, I loved every minute of planning it and being with you.
In the midst of it all, we decided it was time to move. And we weren't going to just move to another home. You wanted to build a second home. Two story brick Georgian. With an elevator. I 100% agree with you. Best home ever. It was beautiful in every aspect, and it was ours.
Remember the Saturday night that we decided to drive around a bit; and ended up in the subdivision, staring at the lot we had just purchased. We talked about our plans for the home, what we envisioned, about our wedding plans, and our lives ahead. It was such a perfect night. And then, as we are slowly pulling away in the van, two men came running towards us yelling "Get out of here! We don't need your kind around here!" I remember your reaction, which was how you handled everything. You remained very calm. You slowly rolled down your window, and spoke in a very soft voice, forcing them to come closer and lean into the window, and softly stated "We own that land. We are going to live here. We are your neighbors." Yeah. Welcome to the neighborhood!!!
The neighborhood ended up being lovely. Our home at 1805 Beloit Court in Naperville was one filled with love. Spike even seemed to adapt quickly, often having the neighborhood kids ringing our doorbell and asking if she could come out and play. An hour later, the doorbell would ring again, and Spike would walk in exhausted but happy.
After we moved in, we had our wedding day. One of the best days of our lives. Few people knew you were really sick the night before, and that I had snuck over in the middle of the night after everyone left to give you a shot of antibiotics that Dr. Lewis (who was getting married the same day and time) had called in for you. But it worked. By the next morning, you were ready to go.
It was everything we had talked about. Neither of us expected your dad to cry so hard during the service, but it fit. We danced to our song by the Beatles (Do you want to know a secret?) played by the live band that we found when we crashed other people's weddings. Everyone had a wonderful time, including Uncle Thomas who had come from China for his first "American" wedding.
We were surrounded by our family and our friends. It was everything; but most importantly, it was the start of us officially together.
There are so many memories that we made together, it's hard to include them all. By now, you had purchased a new van. That beautiful '91 Dodge Ram charcoal gray with red, black and white stripes. You told me immediately, I'm never getting rid of that van. And you didn't. And the paint job is still like new. But I do have to remind you of your "court" dates with that van! You may have had a bit of a lead foot when you drove, but yes, you always did make great time when we were going somewhere! On one particular drive, you got stopped. The state patrol kindly told you how to get out of the ticket, as in Illinois there was court supervision you could get if you had no ticket in the last six months, and didn't get another in the next six months. $50 fine to pay the court, but you did have to make an appearance in court in front of a judge.
Day of court, you show up in Wheaton. And you discover it is a really old courthouse with the courtroom on the second floor. No elevators. So, what do you do? You park in the no parking zone. You get hold of someone to go to the courtroom to see how they want to handle. You had intentionally not shaved and looked a bit ragged. Before you know it, the judge, Bayliff and attorney have come outside, the judges robe flowing in the breeze. He stood outside your van, you were still sitting in the driver's seat, leaned into the window, and said, "court is in session." Only you could achieve getting a judge to leave a courtroom and come to you; and then let you go without even paying the $50 fee. You always had a way.
You would draw anyone you met into your world. People immediately fell in love with you. And would never forget you. That became increasingly obvious the longer we were together. And I kept falling for you every single day.
This was evident that New Year's Eve we had intentionally not made plans, but you decided that night you wanted to go out. And not just go out; but go o the evening dinner event at the local Inn. You remember, the one that you needed to make reservations for weeks in advance? You convinced me to get ready; and off we go. We showed up about 11:30; obviously without a ticket. But that wasn't stopping you. Before I knew it, you were charming the person who was monitoring the door to the ballroom to be sure no one entered that was not supposed to; and yup; there we were walking through the door. You boldly told me to follow you; we pushed our way to the center of the dance floor and just started having a great time. We managed to make our way towards a table, that happened to have 3 couples seated at it. They were cousins who lived on a farm in Southern Illinois; and they were all so very sweet! They asked where we were seated; and you managed to convince them we were "way in the back far away from the dance floor" so they invited us to join them. It didn't take long before they were going to get us drinks, food, and we had officially become part of the party. What we certainly didn't expect was at midnight, they pulled out an envelope and asked us to join them in selecting a wishbone they had saved from Thanksgiving dinner, and on countdown make a wish. This became a tradition that we continued for years!!!
We traveled. A lot. Everyone learned that at the end of May we would be gone. You would plan all our trips, no matter where we went. Even to go so far. as to call work and tell them I would be gone, long before you told me. We went to Florida quite frequently, New Orleans was a favorite of ours. San Diego. I managed to pull off a major feat and surprised you with Vegas! and more! Traveling had challenges, but we made them work to our advantage. And making friends with ticket counter agents didn't hurt at all.
Our travels didn't always go smoothly. Much later we traveled to Hoboken for Lindsey's wedding. We had a van lined up to meet us at the airport, as we usually did when we traveled. This time, though, the plane was late. And the girl who was meeting us at the airport wanted to go to a party with her friends.
We got in after midnight, and it was raining. We called her from the plane to explain, and she told you she was leaving the van in the parking lot with the keys, and we could figure it out on our own. I think everyone on the plane heard you speak "softly" to her, explaining she would be waiting outside the baggage claim area for us; and that she would most definitely not just leave the keys. When we finally got off the plane, as we were always the last to be get off (fortunately, not like the time they forgot about us and the next crew came on saying, "oh they must have let you board early!") You immediately went out to find the van, and I went for baggage. You dealt with the girl freaking out about police officers watching her being parked where she shouldn't be, and I dealt with having our luggage locked up for the next two hours in the carrier office while the person was on break. What a way to start the weekend!
You loved taking control of things. You were the one to buy all of our cars. You would pick me up at work and tell me we are going for a ride. We would show up at a dealership, you would point to a car; and tell me to see "if I fit," meaning could I see over the steering wheel and could I reach the gas and brake pedals. That was the final test. If yes, the car was ours and I knew you had already eliminated a list of other cars to find the best one. You always have been an internal processor, reviewing all points, pros and cons in your head for a decision, and when you stated your opinion, you had already ruled out so many items and was speaking your decision. For many couples, this would not work, but for us, we worked through a way to still have discussion and come to joint decisions, because that was the relationship we had. Fact of the matter was, though, we usually came to the decision you had already leaned towards, as you were always "85% right" and I get the rest as you would often jokingly remind me. I would never admit it to you; but it was true.
Speaking of taking control. I remember distinctly the day that I got home super late because of a horrible blizzard. You were sitting at the kitchen table. "You know. We don't have to wait until we retire to move somewhere warm." I remember replying "no, no we don't." And that was the end of the
conversation. We had been talking about moving to Chandler in the future. But the night just went on as any other night did.
The next day, when I came home from work, you were sitting at the kitchen table again. This time, there were papers spread everywhere. Looking at them, they were faxes from various builders in the Tampa area. I asked you what you were doing. And your reply was short. Decisive. "We decided we were moving yesterday. We talked about it."
And with that, our move to Tampa began. And a whole new stage of our lives. together.
We had to decide where. We decided on Spring Hill, with a terrific location and easy distance to Tampa and Orlando, on the Gulf, but also seemed like this quaint small town that was just on the verge of growing. We nailed that one!
We had to decide on a home. Suddenly, we are now building a third home, this time long distance. You managed it all like a pro. We found a couple, Jack and Pat (he was a retired priest, and she was a retired nun who left the church together to get married. They were awesome!) who would send us weekly photos of our home construction, even though we had never even met them in person. We made a couple trips down to check things out. And then, Halloween weekend, 1997, we had packed up and sold our home and were in flight to Florida. No family around us. It was just you and me. And we were so excited and happy. Although you did already start talking about wanting a home with yet another garage before we even landed!
The first line of business was getting a job for me. But you had already taken care of that, too. I remember coming home from work at RIC in Chicago, and you were so excited telling me about all the interviews you had done. I was pretty impressed with how much you picked up on what I did over the years
and could actually hold your own in conversations! You would tell me the pros and cons of benefits for each place; and why you were eliminating some. As always you were spot on. We decided on a place, and you told me I
needed to fly down for the "final "interview. I've never walked into an interview before where I introduced myself as "Hi, I'm Gary Giancarlo's wife" and was told I was already hired based on your conversations. You were always surprising me!
We have lived in Spring Hill for 27 years now. We became weather wimps together. I don't know that we ever got over the idea that it was summer all year long, except for that one week in February we always waited for. Our many trips to Florida became a permanent vacation, with a little work mixed in. You would tease about how your tires would wear down so quickly here because we were always on the go compared to being stuck inside half a year in Chicago. And we were.
We went for long weekends whenever we could. We fell in love with the Siesta Key area. We even looked into buying a home in that area. We imagined what life was like living in the Ringling mansion. We would sit on the Venice beach pier and just talk about our plans and dreams and then sit in silence and listen to the gulf. This was at home too, as you would be waiting for me when I would come home from work so we could catch a sunset. There was always something so serene about watching the sun go down together; knowing tomorrow we would get to do it all again.
We went to concerts. You were able to see two of the groups that you had on your list, Eric Clapton, and Rolling Stones. Stones definitely did not disappoint! ZZ and Santana became regulars in our concert rotation. And of course, Bruce, and countless others. The concert pics we took are still hanging in your office.
We became complete space nerds. You would search the NASA site and show me amazing videos and pics. We became a bit obsessed with launches. We loved traveling to the East Coast whenever we could go catch one there; especially at night. We watched John Glenn go up. We saw the last night shuttle launch. We were so lucky to be able to look out our front door to watch them still as they go up with Space X.
But the coolest thing we did was submit our names to be "passengers" to Mars. We both thought it was a joke, even when we received an email with our "tickets" and our frequent flyer miles. But when we heard that the Mars Rover, Perseverance, in 2020 actually had a plate with 10000 names engraved on it, it hit us that we were on Mars for all eternity. We agreed that it was pretty awesome.
I know you are looking at the galaxy now. I know this will sound odd to some but must share with you that on November 27th, there was suddenly a new group showing up in my Facebook feed that I had never seen before, with a video from Perseverance, showing what it looks like on Mars at night. I do not see that as a coincidence. It is beautiful.
We weren't throwing huge parties anymore. Instead, we just loved hanging out the two of us. Exploring, or just being, as long as we were together. We didn't travel across the country as much because we loved being able to just jump in the van and drive wherever we wanted without any concern about transportation arrangements, and all the things we needed to do. And there were so many things to do right here.
We lost Spike. But got another dog, Sport. As you would later say, big mistake. Let's just say you were not Sport's biggest fan. Just no one could compare to Spike.
We faced new challenges here. We both lost our parents. Those were some tough days. I leaned on you to be my support. My strength. And I tried to do the same for you. We made it through. Together.
I was diagnosed with cancer. You were who got me through each day. You pushed me when I needed to be pushed. You comforted me when it was too much. You took me shopping before starting chemo for a wig. You picked me up from work on Day 17 when clumps of hair started to fall out in the morning. You had told me to go to work, it would all be ok. You took me to a salon to have my hair shaved, and called our friends to fill them in on how great it was that I was never going to have to shave my legs. You offered to shave your
head too. You were my rock, as you always have been. And we made it through. Together.
You had some medical challenges. Some turned out to be a nightmare. I was told you wouldn't make it multiple times. You always rebounded. You always proved everyone wrong. And despite a longstanding outcome that you had to fight through for a few years, you did it. You never accepted when people told you to deal with it. You bounced completely back. We got through that
period. Together. You would have to fight again. And then again. But each time, despite all the fights I had with physicians who wanted to rule you out, you always rebounded. I fought for you because I knew what a fighter you were. You proved them all wrong. Over and over throughout your life. We got through all of it. Together.
This last year was rough. Another nightmare with let's say not the greatest medical care being provided. But you fought back. Our house ended up being completely renovated due to a leaky water line in the kitchen; and that became a nightmare with, let's say not the greatest skills of subcontractors. We had to fight again. We were living in boxes. Fighting each day. But together. And in the end, our home turned out beautiful once the right people found us. You fought back and we were once again heading to sunsets, you were teasing me about my height and walking into walls, and we made it through. Together. Just us.
Through everything, the only thing that ever mattered was that we were together. I already miss the teasing, that wonderful laugh when you would crack yourself up over your own jokes, being able to run to you and talk about what a huge mistake the Bears made to lose the game in the final seconds which led to the coach being fired, and just being able to share every second of life with you. I miss your eyes. I miss you hiding on me, especially when you would move the van while I was in Publix shopping so I would have no idea where you were. I miss everything about you. But I feel you here with me. I see the messages you are leaving me.
I put our tree up. The boxes had been brought in on Sunday so we could decorate on Thanksgiving Day. You laughed at me when I said we were robbed of Christmas last year and we needed to have decorations up every minute we could. I love our little tree. Every ornament on it is one that you and I collected together. Each year of "us" we would get ornaments that symbolized things that happened, we did, or places we went. We would talk about each ornament as we put them up. The first ornament that we ever got was your favorite and always goes up first. The one of you, me, and Spike. It's right on the front of the tree as always. Except for the ornaments I had already ordered for this year, there won't be any more ornaments added. This was our tree. Our memories. And it will be frozen in time.
Our little tree is full. And while my heart is empty, the memories are flowing over.
This started out as something that was supposed to be your story. It became a love letter from me to you, realizing how our lives have been so intertwined. Through all the amazing times, and the hard ones, WE were the constant. You have been my Superman since the day I met you. You inspire me to be better. But you have also been my rock.
I'm not really sure how to navigate all of this going forward alone. I'm trying hard to just breathe each morning right now; and I'll try figure out the rest as each day comes. I count on you to still guide me. Make sure I don't do anything stupid. And just be close by.
I will see you again honeypie. But not today.
I will always love you; to Mars and beyond. And I will always keep falling for you
With all of my love, M.