Today, I lay my husband to rest. But only in body.

As many of you know, my husband was a strong willed, free spirited and oftentimes stubborn man who would laugh in the face of adversity, the words, "There's no way you can do that," or, "That's impossible!" seen as a perception he was charged with tearing down. Not once in the time I have known of him, been with him, or shared his thoughts and life has he proved me otherwise.

There is a sort of magnetism one feels when they don't need words or body language to communicate; when your brainwaves are seemingly synced up to a point where you are both constantly seven steps ahead of your own conversation. I first felt that eight years ago and ever since, despite all the obstacles, hardships and other trials, I found myself being pulled in a direction through life, career and spirit.

Two years ago, I felt that pull in full force, and as if I released the steering wheel of life from my hands, things were progressing so quickly that I'm sure even if I had tried to avoid it with a lead foot, somehow we still would have met, we still would have crossed paths and tied ourselves to one another. It was mutually unspoken, that draw between us. In-explainable and irreplaceable.

Eight years is a long time to allow someone to share their wisdom with you. But in these past two years, it feels as if I've lived in a vacuum of those eight years compressed into mere months. My husband was never cruel, though at times his advice could be perceived as such. But in all things he does, it is with the best intentions. Sometimes our emotions get in the way of logical thinking, and as such we limit our own growth.

Something happens to you when you share yourself so wholly with another; they hold a part of you the way you hold a part of them, and slowly, over time, you start to lose a sense of yourself because everything becomes us. Because you share the most intimate moments, the loudest frustrations, and the happiest accomplishments in every aspect of your lives together.

Today, I lay my husband's body to rest. But his indomitable spirit lives on with me. He lives on in everyone who's ever taken his words to heart. So while I will not be able to enjoy the warmth of his arms again, I find solace in the warmth of people from all over the world who hold a part of him within themselves. As he continues to be my strength, my husband in you is also my strength.

So do not mourn for me; he will not permit me any more time unmoving. Take what you feel inside yourself and make something of it. None of us are alone, so keep pushing forward. I'll see you there, somewhere in the future.

I love you, Monty. Always.


Taken the day before we got married, May 9, 2014.