OK, gang. I am going to give you one more brief update on my struggle with grief before I move on to other topics — at least for a little while.
The loss of my beloved bride a little more than a week ago has prompted me to make at least one command decision as I begin the long trek toward daylight at the end of this dark path.
I will hit the road, probably sooner rather than later. Toby the Puppy and I are going to climb into our pickup truck and go somewhere, probably out west toward the Pacific Ocean.
I have family out there and I have friends who live along the way. I want to see them. But more importantly — and I know that’s hard to fathom — is that I want to vacate the house I shared with Kathy Anne for the past four years.
Why? Because I see her everywhere in this house. Her cabinets with angels. Her wall decorations. The pictures she put out of our sons and assorted family members. My bride’s fingerprints are all over this place.
They will be there when I return. I know that I will have to look at what she left behind when I walk through the door. I believe in my heart I will be able to take it all in better than I can at this moment.
Of course, and this goes without saying (but I’ll say it anyway), I never will cease remembering her and the life we shared for more than five decades.
We are going to have a memorial service on Feb. 25. That will occur in the church where we worshiped for two decades in Amarillo. I hope to see our many friends come to celebrate the joyful life my bride led and remember her as the faithful servant of God she was for her entire life.
After that? I’m on the road in search of that shining light.