Sixty years ago today, my beloved Wendy and I were married. It was a seasonably hot day in Adelaide, 104 F, but a late afternoon cool change made conditions comfortable for the reception. Our marriage lasted nearly 55years until Wendy fell ill and died of ALS. In an email to my brother Peter in Adelaide earlier today, I wrote -
I think of Wendy and am reminded of her many times every day. Memories of her irrepressible humour bubble to the surface constantly. Yesterday our building manager moved the sideboard in my dining room in preparation for plumbing maintenance in the kitchen through the wall. The move disclosed 17 years worth of bits and pieces that had fallen behind the sideboard - letters, photos, etc, including a couple I might circulate, or at least show our kids, that illustrate what a wonderful, unique and lovely person Wendy was. I treasure the 54 years of our marriage, the 55 years we were lovers, treasure all the fun we shared, all the travel, all the adventures, all the calm and placid times. I’m glad I behaved as a gentleman should, letting her go first, thus sparing her the dismal task of tidying when half of a long, loving partnership dies. I can’t bring myself to complete that task of tidying, but will leave some of it to R, D and J, and hope it reminds them as it does me, of Wendy.
No comments:
Post a Comment