Forty years later and it is the golden light that I first remember. The first rush of memory shimmers gold. Autumn’s late afternoon liquid gold of dappled sunshine; sinking sun; waving, glowing leaves.

Those golden moments were the backdrop for the first moments I watched John. He was laughing with friends as I sat a few seats behind them on the school bus that would soon carry us all back home. I wasn’t one of his friends. Yet.

Our bus stopped for dinner and when we all piled back on, I chose a seat and sat down by myself. And, then there was John looking right at me.

“I think you’re in my seat,” he said. As far as I was concerned, all seats on a school bus were fair game. I sat wherever there was an empty spot.

I shrugged. “I don’t think so, but I can move.” I stood to slide past him.

He shook his head and smiled, “I’ll sit with you, if that’s ok.”

And the next 40 years are our history. So much joy and then so much sorrow.

I’ve missed him for nearly 12, but, every. single. day. I wake up still in our story. The house is different but a lot of the furniture is still here. So are his favorite books and our sweet family dog we picked out together for our kids; she just turned 16.

Daughter 1 has his handwritten “I love you” note he tucked in her lunchbox. The tiny frame sits on her work desk. She has his blue eyes.

Daughter 2 wears his clothes; and his cleft in her chin.

Daughter 3 still has his Xterra. She smiles like him.

Our son wears his monogram ring; their hands look alike.

Death doesn’t win. It doesn’t take everything. It can’t. So much is left behind. Beautiful, golden treasured moments. Laughter. Passion. Wisdom. Joy. Forgiveness. All you have to do is close your eyes and it rushes in. Other times it is right in front of you in the physical likeness a family member shares.

Today, I have celebrated 40 years of life with John. Though he hasn’t physically been here for the past 12, he has been here everyday. And he keeps influencing my life. Marriage can truly be God’s best gift.

Twelve years ago when I started this blog. I wrote this description of our first meeting. It still makes me smile.

November 12, 1983

boy of 16 meets girl of 15 on a school bus. uses the ploy of thumb wars to hold hands.

shoulder to shoulder. arm to arm. hand in hand. a commencement.

little did they know they were on an adventure. something bigger than them had begun. yes, they were young. But, He knew time was of the essence for their story; no discrimination for age.  

the clock began to tick. 10,345 of the marrow of their days.

their four contributions to eternity springing forth in a distant May, June, March, and August.  three girls and a boy would join a home of love and laughter and faith in the God who was writing their story.

this is us.

and I am thankful for every day we were given.