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Short and sweet, dear Ricochet friends.
Having read your essays this past month as they revealed lives of courage, hardship, mind-boggling talent, empathy, humor and love – well – I’m grateful – and humbled.
So let me be brief. My husband saved my life. My gratitude for his love and support has bloomed beyond my imaginings as the years have passed. We were young and from very different family cultures. As the second of seven children beneath a very brilliant and driven older sister — I was rather lost, directionless and drifting, I shared an apartment with her and my kid brother during my second year of college. On a Saturday afternoon my big sister took me on a tour of the med school anatomy lab. My future husband and I met over a cadaver. Love at first sight.
His father was a Baptist minister who fought our marriage. He told me that my husband knew better than to marry a Catholic. We married, anyway. It wasn’t always smooth-going, but we struggled and grew together like the trees you’ve seen whose trunks and branches become indistinguishable, one from the other, over the years. We raised our son (yep — I gifted him with a Ricochet membership) who has made us so proud as we’ve watched him help tease apart a few of the mysteries of the solar system.
My husband’s support of our little family and my broader wonderful family at large, created a life that I’d never dreamed possible. The family sharings and laughter throughout the years rest on the bedrock of his sacrifice and hard work.
He’s made it possible for me to indulge my love of wandering through the natural world and to procure the series of cameras ( film and processing were required back then!) and the leisure hours to record the beauty around me.
There’s so much that fills my heart as I look across the room and watch him cheering his OSU football team.
Yes, he played the tuba in The Ohio State Marching Band. (That’s really the reason I married him.)
I brag on him all the time. And thank him every day for my good life.
I am grateful.