If I had only known:
- I would have held your hand more often
- I would have called you more just to say "Hello" even if we would be seeing each other in just a few hours.
- I would have laughed when you tried to tame my crazy kitty Katy into coming to you no matter how late it made us for dinner
- I would have pressed to meet your family sooner
- I would have let you help me with more things instead of trying to be independent
- I would have snuggled more
- I would have told you more about my thoughts and feelings. Oh, it wasn't that you didn't it ask but just that I am not a natural talker.
- I would have made you more cookies and peanut butter pie.
If I had only known that you'd be leaving here so soon, I would not have been so shy. I would have loved you out loud.
If you were here right now:
- I'd let you help with flowers for the yard
- I'd actually cook for you
- I'd tell you how hard it was to have you go so suddenly
- I'd laugh with you about Mali's antics. She would have you wrapped around that tiny paw.
- I'd let you comfort me on some of the strange turns my life has taken
- I'd tell you about the book I hope to write
- I'd drive you crazy holding your hand
- I'd laugh more
- I'd smile more
- I'd be the one to try and sneak the kiss
- I'd count every second as a treasure
And, yes, I would love you out loud . . . .
Bill died April 23, 2007 from an aortic aneurysm. We had met at church. Our first date almost turned into a group outing. I was standing with Emily when he approached me and asked about a concert in Peoria that night. Assuming he meant a group outing, I turned to Emily and asked her if that sounded like fun. He graciously said that more people would be fine. But Emily caught on more quickly than I did and she declined.
When he picked me up he noticed that I didn't put the garage door down. I explained that it was broken and I had no clue what to do with it. The next day he came by to fix it for me. I was making cookies, so he stayed for some . . . .
He fixed that sill garage door 3 times! Third time was the charm. It hasn't broken since.
But I suppose instead, it's my heart that got broken to have him leave so suddenly. It's been a year and I still remember. It's been a year that was really hard in places, but my heart is healing. I'm making it through.
Bill brought me laughter and a feeling of connection that before I had only ever dreamed could happen. Without Bill I might have given up that the connection even really existed. While it hurt to say a sudden "Goodbye," there is hope in knowing that mystical connection is fact not fiction and even I can dare to reach out for it.
