Cheryl and I met at a picnic. It was a blue moon in August of 1966 specifically, but that is not the real story. The story is what we have been together since.

High school friends of mine put together a picnic with friends of hers. Cheryl went because they invited her. I went because my friends invited me.

I found myself sitting alongside of her at a picnic table in a dark picnic area in Winton Woods. Both of us were wondering how these guys were going to get the hot dogs off the grill when they had brought no tools. I scooped the hot dogs up with a couple of paper plates quickly enough that the paper did not catch fire. Cheryl later told me that she thought that action was really clever. And by the way Cheryl likes grilled hot dogs, so, I was a hero that night.

Oh what a night – is from a Frankie Valley song – This was a night that changed both our lives and brought us together.

Our meeting was a totally random event and since that night (almost 58 years ago) we have been together. No matter how you think about it, fate, God’s will, whatever, it set my course in life. It set our course in life.

It was the last summer of high school. She went back to Immaculate Conception Academy in Oldenburg Indiana. I dated a couple of other girls but I was not interested in anybody else except for her. I suppose if you believe in love at first sight that was it for me. I am not sure about Cheryl but we have been intertwined ever since.

Four years later, almost to the day, after we met on that picnic, we got married.

I finished up school at Miami University in Oxford. She supported me at Miami during our first years of marriage. Graduated and with a good paying job, I supported her at University of Cincinnati and she finished her degree in Computer Science.

We raised three children.

We spent a few years empty nesting, enjoying life and living. We had two fairly well paying careers. We enjoyed a little bit of travel. It has been a really good life with lots of memories and now she is gone.

There is an emptiness. That emptiness has been with me for some time and today it is reality. I don’t know where to put that in my heart. I don’t know where to put that in my head. I don’t know what to do about that period. I have struggled with that every day for a few months. At Bridgeway Pointe she was physically still here but mentally not here. And now she is physically gone too.

I just don’t know how to think about all this but I feel relief that she is not suffering anymore. I think about this constantly. I meditate about this a lot. I push away the sadness for a bit and then think about her smile and remember the times we had. The Sunday dinners. The family gatherings. The happy times.

I do not know what is next but I do so wish there was a manual.

She is still here in my heart. She will always be. I hold her heart in my heart. At first it made me feel a little bit guilty, moving her to memory care but I don’t have guilt feelings anymore. I tell myself this but maybe those feelings are still with me. At first I had sort of thought that it felt like I was giving up or giving in or throwing our life away.

I don’t really quite know how to express that emotion, but we lived together for so long. It did not and still does not feel right. Perhaps it never will. There is an emptiness.

It is so hard to see her go. I just don’t know what to do about it. I just don’t know what to do about my emotions. I can’t really put them in my pocket.

I can for a while but then they just sort of spontaneously come out every now and then. I don’t worry about that. I just sort of stop for a minute when I get all choked up and I just simply can’t talk, but I’m getting better at it, accepting and passing by that that deep sense of loss. I don’t know how else to say that. It is just a really deep deep sense of loss.

I love her and she will always be part of me. I have lots and lots of good memories.

These past few years have been a trial. I choose not remember her this way.

I will remember the trips to the Cincinnatian Hotel and the Netherland Hilton Hotel. We had several of those thanks to Nativity’s church festival and the Bid and Buy booth.

I will remember Sunday matinees at the Playhouse in the Park. And the discussions with Mom and Dad in the car and at LaRosa’s where we always stopped for lunch on the way to the play.

I will remember the cruise trips. The 4 day / 3 nighter in the bow of the boat with the bed so big there was no place to walk in the cabin. And the anchor going out in the morning.

I will remember her happy face as we left Seattle for Alaska. Sitting on the veranda outside of the cabin that was so big it had a separate seating area and two bathrooms. And some guy who could make stuffed animals out of towels and my sunglasses.

I will remember the hiking trips in various parks and the looks on the boy scouts’ faces when we encountered each other five miles from the trail head in Green Bow State Park in Kentucky. And how great lunch tasted when we got back to the lodge after our hike.

Perhaps 25 years ago we began visiting Cumberland Falls every year around our wedding anniversary. There are some rugged hiking trails in that park. Cheryl loved hiking. A trip did not count if there was no hike.

I will remember pancakes with fresh maple syrup in the morning looking for the ladies room in Hocking Hills before we went on our hike.

I will remember the joy on her face when she graduated U. C. Evening College.

I will remember the tired joy on her face after the birth of each child.

I will remember the trips to Myrtle Beach and during those trips the trips to Charleston. Cheryl loved Charleston and enjoyed walking around the seafront and through the market.

I will remember a Christmas Eve a long time ago when she insisted that I open her gift to me and all I wanted to do was go to bed and sleep after a night of celebration and maybe a little too much alcohol with family. She had made me a shirt. She was so proud of it. She was an incredible seamstress and could not wait for me to try it.

I will remember the trips with the Wehrmans to Door County and the Grand Canyon.

I will remember walking to Molly Malone’s pub in Pleasant Ridge after work to enjoy dinner that she did not cook. Sometimes other friends we knew were there. She had a glass of wine. I had a glass or two of Guinness. And we would walk home. Tired and thankful that we lived in a great neighborhood.

I will remember her herding the kids to church on Sunday morning.

I will remember cold weekend mornings alongside soccer fields and ball fields and basketball courts and volleyball courts.

I will remember her excitement when Anna announced that our first grandchild, Laurencia, was coming. And David’s phone call from Illinois when Luke was on the way. And Scott’s phone call that eventually turned into Gavin. And all the other phone calls about babies and other events. Whenever we came home from anywhere she would check the phone for messages.

I will remember how she cared for me and our family through life and how kindness and caring was in the forefront of any of her actions.

I will remember how she cared for her own mother, Elaine near the end of her life.

I will remember many things but I will not dwell on the last few weeks and months of her time here.

I love you Cheryl. You will always be with me.

I carry your heart in my heart.

I will remember your smile.