The thought of David losing his wife makes lightning explode in my eyes and heart. When we said I do, it meant I will. I will love you. I will keep you first in my decisions and spirit. You will be my one. You will be my heart. My soul and your soul dances through life intertwined like ivy wandering over the bark of a tree.
Stage 4 cancer. How can you take the peace and passion of my family and rip it in every direction? With every scar, you take a piece of me. With every surgery, it is one more ability I can’t get back. Every scan stitches doubt into our lives. Tears stain our minds. Not only do you chain saw your way through the adults, but you grab our kids. That angers me the most. How dare you? How can you poke these precious beings and shred their confidence in day to day stability?
You have met your match. We will show you joy. Our hearts will not be heavy with fear. They will soar in the clouds and be a ribbon gliding on a summer breeze. The meadows below our beloved mountains will see us singing as we walk together along this narrow path. You won’t make us break, but we will bend in the wind. We will be the oak tree. My acorns are stronger than you.
You have tried to stop my voice. Every time I have tried to start writing my story, you send me a lump in my throat or electricity in my tears. I won’t let you stop me any more. Crying over the keys is okay. You won’t stop me any more.
Symbols of hope. Hatteras was our first love together. We could see the sea lice glowed in the moonlit waves thanks to the knowledge of an old timer. My granddaddy was a fisherman; an ocean fisherman at that. That huts and shacks of the outer banks are a rare sight now, but in the 80s I fell in love when mom took Grandmother, Wayne and I to see where Granddaddy fished. Glimmers of DeWitt are seen in all my men. Integrity, grit, strength, love, laughter, song, bare feet, tenacity describe a fraction of the man that I see in my 3. It is only fitting that the Outer Banks has anchored itself in our love and life.
