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Widowed Village connects peers with each other for friendship and sharing. The moderators, administrators, and others involved in running this site are not professionals.

Please don't interpret anything you read here as medical, legal, or otherwise expert advice. Don't disregard any expert's advice or take any action as a result of what you read here.

We're friends, not doctors, financial or legal professionals, and we're not "grief experts." But we are here, and we've been "there."

27  years together and then you left me. Not because you wanted to leave, you had no choice in the matter.

Cancer called the shots. You fought back that alien, you didn't lose that fight. How could you lose, you were

a strong 60-years young, American man, full of life, strength, muscle,  heart,  DIY man, my man.

I would call you "my beautiful man", remember you would laugh at that?  I can't remember why I started calling you that though.

Maybe it was because you always exceeded any preconceived expectations I had of you;

Or it was because once you began a task, you never gave up on it, no matter what deterrents you ran into, you were determined to see it through;

Or,  because no matter what was thrown at you, you never complained;

Or,  because you always helped people in need, family,  friends and neighbors, and you never expected anything in return;

Or,   because you were such a good, loving daddy to your kids;

Or,  because you took care of me and made me smile.

Maybe it was all of the above.

I can smile at the memories now. Fill the emptiness with memories of us.

With a scar on my heart I keep memories of our blissful life together.

You to me are to the very end and always even through the emptiness now still remain "my beautiful man"

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