I knew Joe was perfect for me the first time I jumped up on a bar to dance and he jumped right up with me.
He’s the clean to my messy, the music in my head, the party in my life.
Last week’s news nearly destroyed us. Joe’s cancer is back before we’ve even been able to fully recover from the surgery that removed it.
We stood outside looking at the stars and started talking about the day we first kissed. The moments that followed. Hiding behind a tree so friends wouldn’t see us.
Joe was living in Florida and I was in a wedding in Kansas City. Joe, after a couple of whiskeys, booked a $500 flight to get to me. Six hours later I was picking up a sleepy eyed Joe at the airport. His suit wadded in a ball and jammed in his backpack. I had never felt so loved and I knew this was my match.
Since cancer and now the sweet baby, we’ve somehow forgotten who those people were. It’s actually something most new parents can relate to. You can easily lose the whole reason you fell in love.
We’ve had to take on more than most 30-year-olds with only two years of marriage should endure. Let’s just say I’ve seen Joe’s tush hanging out of a hospital gown enough for all of us.
I fell in love with Joe’s zest for life. His passion for success. The sparkle in his eyes. Cancer has taken so much of that from him.
Now, with all that is happening. The cancer. The fight. We spend so much time talking about Mira, money, and planning for the unthinkable. The truth is, it’s about so much more. Something I can hardly talk about. I can plan to live on my own. I can talk about life insurance. I can plan to be a widow. But how do you plan to lose the greatest love anyone could ever know?
How can you ever accept losing the, “us”??
Now I just want to go back to the beginning. Who were those young, tan lovebirds?
This weekend, I’m going to make him dance with me and maybe even jump on a bar. I’m going to hold him so tight and kiss his temples. I’m going to order a dirty martini and get real flirty. I’m going to fall in love with my husband.