32 years and counting

How long until I see you again?

I wondered this when Tom died in 1993.

I was just 21 when I became a widow. I’m now 53.

I’d crawled out of a dysfunctional home, toward a new life, after dating a boy who became a man while we were together.

I loved being his girlfriend and I still do.

I loved being his wife and I still do.

I loved being the mother of our child and I still do.

Forever his widow and I’m still honored to keep his memory alive.

I kept my promise to him. I manage to talk to people without him around to urge me to do so.

I’m sure he never planned on my becoming an author and spilling a ton of secrets, that include his amazing phone call to me after he died. I know he’d be pleasantly surprised and happy about all of that.

I don’t know when I’ll see him again, but I get to live with knowing that I will. He’s waiting and I’ll have so much to catch him up on.

RIP Tom Mosley. 10-7-93.