For those of you following this blog, I know I have been remiss in keeping it up with timely installments. My dear husband, Ken, died late last year and that took my full attention, as did the myriad of details that come with the loss of a loved one. I considered posting his obituary on here, but opted not to for security reasons. There’s enough information on the web, it really wouldn’t matter. Those intent on discovering more can do so. I’ll focus on the stuff I’d rather have you consider.
Ken lived an incredible life. He lived with integrity, openness, honesty and, above all, an exceptional sense of humor. He loved life, and all the odd twists and turns that make it exciting. Even viewing hardships, he was always able to spin them toward the positive, realizing that without troubling times, the shine of the good times would dim. He was vibrant. He was brave. He was kind. He was openly affectionate. You always knew where you stood with Ken. He was clear.
Ken taught me how to live. Ken taught me how to die, and he taught me how to “be” with someone who was doing both. Ken sincerely wanted those around him to move on – to carry life’s candle for him, too. He was loved by many; he touched the lives of all he loved. It was an honor to be his wife. He made being “his spouse” into a position that any woman would be honored to claim. I wish more husband’s and wives viewed their marriages this way – of “How can I make my spouse proud and honored to be with me?” instead of “What’s in it for me?”
In contrast, Ken viewed life from the standpoint of “What can I give to this situation to make it better?” An example of this selflessness was the tulips that were a Christmas gift because they were my favorite. He planted them while diagnosed with brain cancer – because he wanted to be able to “Wow” me in the spring when he knew I would be in the grips of great sadness, and every spring from there forward, even though he knew he probably would not be here to see it the very first spring! He lived for the joy he got from putting a smile on the faces of those around him. At times, that was a challenging job, but he took the task seriously and did a fine job of it. How many of us can say we do that?
So, it is with deep regret that I inform those following this blog – those who cared about us and our journey – that I lost Ken, but…I found him, too…in a greater capacity. He touched my life – and yours – without the restraints of having to be alive to do it. He inspired us all. I miss him, but his spirit lives on in the hearts of those close to him. And I can only hope that sharing his stories inspires all of you to go forth and see what little things you can do to change your world for the better. It doesn’t have to be expensive, or outlandish. It can be a tulip. It can be a smile. It can be a random act of kindness. Whatever it is, I can tell you, from the back side of your gesture, it means a LOT!Explore posts in the same categories: Uncategorized