For thirty years my pen sat on my desk to be looked at each day. It was my most prized pen with lavender lilacs and fits in my fingers as if it were made to rest there forever. But somewhere in those precious treasured years, I allowed it to remain unused.
Without ever noticing that anything had changed, that life was somehow different, someone had begun to lay down in ink what out present and future would be. My husband was everything, the moon, the stars, and the world. I suppose that my eyes were blinded to the fact that he had become the author of my life. There is not any regret or disappointment in this fact, just a recent awareness. Our life was more than wonderful.
But now I see more clearly why I was so terribly lost when he passed away. That person who was Patty before I was married became a mere shadow of herself under his giant shadow.
Ready, Set, Done!