A toast, to Judy

A toast to Judy

A Very Dear Friend passed away this week.

Shocking, to all of us on the one hand, as she’d finally be handed a notice of sorts from the surgeons - she’s looking good! - only to find, that well, she really wasn’t. Or perhaps, it was simply, her time. Either way, he came home, from getting her meds, and found her. Or rather, her shell still lurking on Earth, but the rest of her, floating away into the netherworld, away from those of us that loved her.

I sat, to write him, after baking failed me, and I broke down, three times putting together a lasagna. I’m so bereft, I’m speechless. I attempted to find a way to put into prose, a tribute to this amazing woman, whose warmth, light and heart lit us all, all that she touched, all her life.

Which is when I remembered. Jim and I have lunch, quite frequently; not frequently enough, honestly, but often enough that we’ve a pattern. One day, not long ago, I was bemoaning my single status, how I’m selling a house that had not been christened; he quite off the cuff, told me that he’d not had sex in five years, ever since Judy’s first surgery, and while the bills piled up, and the kids grew, the housework became his - I’ll never forget this - he says to me:

I’ve never loved her more, than I do at this moment. Not when we first were married, or when the kids came - but now, when she’s totally my life, I love her more than I did standing at the alter.

I can hardly type, as it is, recalling the look on his face. Judy is his life. Was his life.

I told Jim today, that we’re only as strong as how well we’ve loved - by that stadard, he’s the strongest man I know. It’s quite cold comfort to hope that one day, I’m so well loved - and I am; I’ve wonderful friends, family, loved ones.

I’m just down one today.

So Judy, a toast: may you always know how loved and missed you are, as you’ll live in our hearts forever.