May 6, 2010
Dear sweet Lisa,
Who could imagine that a decade would roll pass. I knew that some day we would look back and know that ten years would have passed, that a four year old Aulden would be approaching fifteen, that a six year old Nathaniel would be learning to drive. That the time you were gone would be close to the years we had been married. Amazingly that time is now.
And yet the day is the same icy and wind-beaten day where the early darkness of autumn are reminiscent of that Saturday you left us.
Your Mum and Dad are upstairs, come to spend the day with us. Aulden will join us while Nat has a Mock Trial event to attend. I have taken this anniversary to make the cemetery plot a little nicer and to add the extra boulder that your Mum asked for so her place will be ready when her time comes. The photo of you that had faded over the years has also been replaced with a newer porcelain version. The decade had taken its toll on your image, fading the beauty that you had polished the night we were thrown a party in San Diego before emigrating to Australia. You were especially beautiful that night and I thought you might like to be remembered that way. In replacing the faded image, I decided to use another lovely photo of you this time. Instead of the incredibly glamourous you that sits at the front of the front of this Web site, I opted for a lovely candid, capturing you in conversation at your folks' dinner table. This on our first visit back to Australia to share our 8 month old Nathaniel with his Nan and Grandpa. The family history of the photo is also significant because after this evening, on the second day of our trip, you fell backward playing catch in the park and broke both your wrists. The rest of the weeks' holiday saw your attempting to breastfeed with both arms in braces. I had been afraid that with a loving mother and doting Nan that I would see little of our pride and joy, but as it turned out, Nat never adjusted to the time zone change and I was up at 3 or 4 each morning atttempting to send time quietly engaging a very active boy hours before anyone else awoke. These are the little memories we have that comprise the a life. The image of Lisa trying to cradle Nat in her bandage-stiffened arms, the lovely doting of a mother for her injured adult daughter, a Nan teaching us that kitchen utensils and picture books were entertainments that could keep a young Nathaniel engaged and in one spot instead of literaly constantly crawling into every corner and under any gap under furniture.
That was years ago. Similarly, the very sweet memories of the partnership Lisa and Aulden shared. With Nat off to pre-school and then Kindy and me upstairs working in the office, Lisa and Auldy shared many lovely hours. I always recall Lisa saying, "Aulden's such a good companion." His easy-going nature and hands-on approach to what's going on around him, have always made spending time together a joy. Add to this his sweet loving ways and any parent would relish the jaunts to the park, hand-in-hand, his solid palm fit naturally against your own. Then the pure bliss of seeing the joy of living reflected through his beaming features.
These are days I will never forget. The joy. Our sadness.
Love to you always sweet girl.
As full, changing and challenging as life is as it moves on, you are always here, always missed.
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