I fell in love with Susan Cantrell. On April 1, 1972, we married, and a year later, we had out son, Jordan Gilchrist.
I am angry at her for dying almost a year ago. She should be here still. As she lay dying, she said she had accomplished and done everything she ever wanted to do. Maybe. But the rest of us wanted more of her. One more day. One more year. One more decade. One more laugh. One more story. One more visit. One more phone call. One more letter. One more book.
Our marriage only lasted three years, but our love for each other lasted a lifetime. For Susan, that was another 39 years. My love for her still burns and always will.
I am angry at her for dying almost a year ago. She should be here still. As she lay dying, she said she had accomplished and done everything she ever wanted to do. Maybe. But the rest of us wanted more of her. One more day. One more year. One more decade. One more laugh. One more story. One more visit. One more phone call. One more letter. One more book.
Our marriage only lasted three years, but our love for each other lasted a lifetime. For Susan, that was another 39 years. My love for her still burns and always will.
RSS Feed