Goodbye Letter to B

Dearest B,

Can it really be that time? Do we really have to say goodbye?

I'm not sure I'm ready. Don't you think you could hold on a little longer? Say 6 months or maybe 20 years or so?

Sigh. No, it seems your time to go is much sooner. And though I hate to say goodbye, I do want to tell you how much I love you and a little bit about what you mean to me.

Remember meeting me at that restaurant in Utah? Someone (was it Shannon?) had a drink poured down her back. Everyone ordered salmon (which I had probably never eaten) and laughed through the whole meal. You were all so happy to be together. I was so happy to be included as part of the family.

Jeremy had told me a lot about you. He talked about his parents too, but you seemed to be the one who saw him the most clearly. The one who knew him better than anyone. His most kindred friend.

You knew and loved him from the beginning.

And instantly you liked me. And I adored you. And I knew it was all going to be ok - and probably great even. Let's order the dress and pick out a cake. B approves so let's do this!

You may think I'm kidding but your opinion really was the clincher for the whole deal. We loved each other but your confidence that I was THE ONE was a push he needed. And really, I needed it too.

You are the example that Jeremy loves by.

I dearly wish I had known you and Hal together. I wish I could have witnessed the love you shared. For Jeremy, I think it soaked into his bones and became a deep part of who he is. Watching you two together, gave him the picture of what could be. You told him to expect 10% and give 90% and things would just work out. You told him you had to make sacrifices, live in the moment, and love with your whole heart. And you showed him it would be worth it. So that is what he does. And it is worth it! It really is!

He learned so much from your example.

Lynda and Junior are amazing too and he learned it also from them. But I think the credit has to go to you as well. I appreciate so much how your example taught him to love and care for his family. We are now living the "could be" and it is wonderful.

You will always be a big part of who he is.

Your books are a source of continual comfort and happiness for me. I don't think you realize how much I have relied on Yesterday's Children for comfort through motherhood. Since Lynda and Lucy have a lot in common (ahem - bullheaded - ahem), I wish you could be by my side during any tough times that loom ahead. But I will continue to read your books and ask myself, "what would B do?"  It won't be as good as talking to you, but I'm confident there will be peace and help in the answers I find.

What would B do?

Someday, I'll pick up another of your books - From Ending to Beginning - and cling to it for dear life. Becoming a widow is The Worst thing That Could Possibly Ever Happen. And someday - it will happen! When it does, I'll have to start my life all over again. Everything I do is entangled in Jeremy and I am happy with it that way. Fear of losing him might hold me back. Because of you, I will try to trust that everything will be ok.

You dared to love completely and I will too.

The only B I know is a survivor of grief, a woman shaped by the love and loss of her husband. I know it is nothing you would ever have chosen and I'm so sorry it happened to you. But I love who you are because of it. Strong. Focused on people and relationships. Freely expressing your love for family and friends. Willing to say the hard thing. Letting go of anyone or anything that isn't a joyful part of your life. Living each day as it comes.

Your home has been our refuge.

We've spent almost every Christmas Eve at your house since we were married. Those weeks of visiting have been some of the most peaceful in my life. They have also been my secret power (aka my means of surviving the wet, gray months of winter in the NW). Thank you so much for giving us so many happy memories. We will try to make Christmas wonderful without you, but it won't quite be the same. Anytime you want to haunt us around this time of year (please do!), you can expect a telling or two of the frog prince joke and some apricot cookies baked just for you.

I will miss laughing with you.

Your jokes, your stories, your books - your legacy of family folklore are my inspiration to write. I am forever grateful that you wrote and shared stories of the family at any opportunity. I've heard some of your stories about a hundred times (the pine nuts, the sleepy ladybugs, the crisco ice cream cone) and I'd listen one hundred more. They are the glue that keeps the family held tightly together. We will keep on telling. And I may not be the prolific writer you are (and I certainly don't have the memory you do!) but I promise you, I will keep on writing. 

Oh, how I love you.

And how I will miss you.

A hundred hugs and kisses,
Margaret