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A love letter to my lost one

We were the best couple ever, always loving and together since high school. Our motto was Marriage is one long conversation. And it was. We had our children, lost two, the Air Force years were remarkable. I was so proud of you, my handsome pilot. Civilian life proved to be tough but we made it, always talking things over, figuring out life’s problems together. The older boys chose to play guitars just as you did. Lessons, the basement arranged for their instruments and then a new era began. The seventies, the dawning of Aquarius, girls stopped wearing bras, and marijuana spread through the schools. We didn’t know it would also spread into our home. Life changed drastically as you went off to work and I was left at home with two little ones and two teens out of control.

My love, they never changed, our older children. After that , it became us, the small kids, and them. A few years later, your heart required a pacemaker. From then on you listened to your heart and forgot about me. Thirty seven years of happiness and suddenly, I was alone with a houseful of kids. You had a fever that wouldn’t go down. Doctor put you in the hospital for examination. After a few days of visiting, we sat together so sad life had changed for us. You looked at me the old way, so dear and loving, and said, “I love you.” We kissed and said goodbye.

2:30 in the morning the doctor called. Hurry, he said. By the time I arrived , you were gone.

How can I express the loss of my dearest? I can’t and it was a long time ago. So I say, “Happy Birthday wherever you are.”

My question is you were 56 when I lost you and I have aged. Have you or are you the same hale and hearty kind of guy I met in high school and we fell in love.

P.S. The older sons abandoned me after taking all the money you left to give me a comfortable life. All gone and so are they. Bad words to them from you and me.

Our two younger kids are all grown-up. Our son is married to an extraordinary woman, a fabulous artist. He continues with his artistic life of performing. They live in Denmark. Our beautiful girl grew up to be a teacher and the dearest daughter. We have a granddaughter you would love to pieces, she’s so smart and delightful. She’s nine and plays on a basketball team. You should see her guard. Or maybe you do. I wonder.

I had a bad fall and daughter and granddaughter saved my life. It’s been a difficult time, my love.

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More about She Didn’t Say No

Excerpt: She studied to be a Veterinarian and on Saturday’s the library emptied as the campus prepared for dates that had nothing to do with studious her. One student, I’d seen him before, a guy called the BMOC, Big Man On Campus, glanced over and grinned.

“Hey you, I’ve seen your cute little nose before in the books.”

Me? He spoke to me? This handsome guy, captain of the swim team said my nose is cute.

“Scott Dwyer.” He extended his hand, muscles rippling through his white tee shirt. He pulled me closer. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t bite.”

We talked for a while, the library closed and he drove us to the beach not far from the campus.

The kiss, tentative at first,  made me tingle all over. My first kiss, oh yes. Later, on the way home I asked him to come up to my private apartment and I didn’t say no to anything.

We became the most unlikely couple on campus so in love until one month I didn’t get my period. I also didn’t tell Scott. Instead, I packed up my clothes and books, wrote him a love letter and left not to see him again for many years.

I short’nd this snippet because there’s so much more. Love to all. If you have a chance, read She Didn’t Say No, a fascinating tale of what is possible. It comes in a 3 volume ebook and a single story. You will love it, I promise and do leave a review on Amazon or Barnes & Noble and let me know. For every review, I have a personal gift for you.

Happy Holiday to our country.

Kizzy’s Final Chapter

Kizzy’s closest companion, my friend Judy Audevard, wrote this last tribute.

It’s so hard to write an end to a beautiful love story. In life, all good things come to an end. This has been an amazing run for Kizzy and me.  We worked so hard to build a strong pet therapy program for adults and kids. About two years ago, I noticed Kizzy lacked the enthusiasm he always had when we went on visits. He was tired, eyesight and hearing failing. Our last visits were to nursing homes and Kizzy felt comfortable there. No noisy kids running around, the soothing serenity with elders calmed him. I felt so guilty leaving him when work called yet knew he’d nap and be there to greet me when I returned.

One spring day, Bob and I received a phone call from someone who needed a home for a puppy.Bob and I went to pick her up thinking we’d contact someone who needed said pup but no. This tiny, maybe two pounds, pup needed a home. Our family voted and she became ours. She took one look at Kizzy and fell in love. He became big brother to teach her manners, use outside for a bathroom, eat from a bowl. He also taught her that a leash and collar were not to be feared, and riding in a car was the most fun ever. Her name is Lulu.

They cuddled together all morning until it was time for Kizzy to say goodbye. She sleeps in his bed now and plays with his toys. Lulu feels his absence as we all do. We celebrated her first birthday a few days ago with a rousing bash. Our grandchildren and their friends joined the big party. She received new toys and lots of attention.

Lulu will have large shoes to fill but she’s training hard and has the personality and temperament to become a therapy dog. She’s on her way.

As for me, a few nights ago before I learned Kizzy had passed, I envisioned him running after a ball, having fun. They call it Rainbow Bridge. I call it a loss, a love I’ll never forget.

In my book, River’s Edge Trio Volume 1, check out Help Wanted. In the story, the main character calls on her friend, Judy to bring therapy dogs to the Veteran’s Hospital for a day of cheer. You will so enjoy this story because I asked Judy to do a “picture this” moment to describe what happens when she and her friends bring their therapy dogs to this rehab for Veterans. It’s real, it’s wonderful You’ll love it.

 

And now I have four. . .

Once upon a time, nine years ago this very day, grandest came into my life. We shared many years together while daughter worked as a teacher. I wrote my books while she napped in a crib. Once she threw one leg over the side in an attempt to climb out. “No,” I cried out and rushed to lift her smiling face and squirming body up and out. The race was on when she crawled toward the open office door when I turned my back to lower the crib’s mattress. This Granny flew across the room to stop the fleeing munchkin. My heart pounded, we both giggled at our adventure. When I placed her back, deeper into the depth of the crib, she discovered a new trick. Drawers filled with her clothes went flying to the floor because little fingers found a way to pull the knobs toward her small self to find gold! I had almost finished a hot scene in the latest romance but I closed up the computer for later when Miss Dynamite left for home. Off we went on a sunny spring morning where she learned words like flowers, daffodils, crocus and birds. What a day!

This, dear readers, you must learn about grandest. At six, when I drove her home from school, while attempting to open the door, I slipped, fell into a deep crevice next to the house. Picture this: a stone step way up to the house; it’s winter and I fall and cannot get up, trapped, wedged in. I said, “Honey, you will have to save me right now. I’m stuck so pull with all your strength and maybe I’ll try to wiggle my way out. Without a word except to say, “I’ll save you, Grans,” she tugged and tugged while I kind of wiggled and somehow I got up with her help. She unlocked the door, helped me in and told me to lie down on the couch. A wet cloth she brought to me, was laid across my face. Then a bottle of cold water was placed next to me. After a while, she made up a game with a soft big ball. She tossed it to me. I tossed it back. Then she rummaged through my purse to find the cell phone and reported the injury to her Mom, still at school.

Fast forward two and a half years pass. This happened last April, 2116. I had a dreadful fall in her bedroom early one morning, on the hardwood floor. That ended my life as I knew it. I heard her scream, “Mommy, Mommy, Granny fell and she’s not moving.” Daughter ran in, called for a substitute teacher, called an ambulance, called my husband. I lost myself that morning. It has taken months of rehab and fierce determination to reclaim myself. I continue to write my stories of Survive and Thrive because that’s who I am.

Twice, grandest saved my life. I will never forget those times we shared.

Happiest Birthday, dearest Grandest C.R. and now there are four. Three sisters to fill her life with more joy.

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