A Love Letter To My Husband

I have now been a widow for fourteen months.  I loved my husband as I have never loved anyone in my life before.  When we met it was like we both had won the lottery -- neither one of us perfect but perfect for each other. 

My loss is huge.  My husband was fun, funny, intelligent, and he wished for my happiness.  He didn’t compete with me and he was so self assured that he gave me all the space to be who I am -- a loud, independent, opinionated woman. 

When we first met, he didn’t seem to be the kind of man I was usually attracted to.  He was nice and he showed real interest in me.  As I got to know him, I learned that what I had pursued in my life had been just appearances: the appearance of a strong man, the appearance of an interesting man, the appearance of a cool man.  My husband didn’t appear to be strong or interesting, he just was. The cool part did not interest him even though I spent many years trying to convince him that it was cool to be cool.

Chris Rubin died of cancer kicking and screaming.  And he worried about me.  He worried no one would know how to take care of me; he knew I needed to be held. He knew me well.  He knew I wrestled with the devil every day and he worried who would hold me when I looked at my reflection in the mirror and a different body from that of my youth looked back at me.

I loved to pinch my husband’s behind but as the cancer devoured his body his once full and round butt looked like a deflated balloon.  He lost so much. 

I cleaned his bed pan and I watched as all the blood in his body filled thirteen plastic containers as his life sipped away from him.  

I laid down next to him and watched as he took his last breath in the place he was most comfortable, in my arms. 

I miss his laughter, and I miss him calling me his wife; such simple words carrying such deep meanings: “ my wife”.

I want to again be in love.  I want to laugh and I want to fall asleep in someone else’s arms but the truth is the thought of that fantasy turning into reality scares me.

Chris Rubin’s love lives within me and his loss make me want to search even more for a meaning to my existence. 

Before my husband left, he gave me the gift of love.  He looked deep into my eyes and in that moment he loved me fully. 

I want to honor his life and his gift by reminding myself and others to seize each moment and to love with abandon.

Chris, Christopher, Chris Rubin, I love you, your wife, Deborah.

Follow Deborah Calla on Twitter: www.twitter.com/debcalla

Comments

[Paratrooper]

Wow, great story--I read this last week, and found it very touching. So you can imagine my surprise, when I ran across this guy, who has essentially plagiarised your entire article AND copyrighted it! http://yrnews.biz/editor.htm

Just thought I'd let you know. I hate to see something so heart-felt and beautiful get ripped off in this way... that just adds insult to injury, particularly given the subject.

My heart goes out to you Debra... I can't imagine going through what you went through. Your story is truly inspirational, and you deserve all the happiness in the world.

[Katie Young]

I found a husband, 9 years ago, at the age of 40 who is much like your Chris. Not a man I ever pictured myself with, but a man who is absolutely perfect for me in every way. I am the luckiest woman on Earth, and although I know this and celebrate him everyday, your letter took me to a deeper place in my heart. A place where this man has value added, becomes more than I ever imagined. My heart cracked open again, just as it did when we were falling in love. And for that I can never thank you enough. I am so deeply sorry for you loss, but so deeply appreciative that you got to know this kind of love. The kind of love that never leaves you and makes your heart bigger and stronger and a beautiful sight to behold. Thank you for sharing this...

[Deborah Calla - Huffpost Blogger]

Dear Katie,

Enjoy being the luckiest woman in the world and when you feel blue remember that. :)

[DavidBeckwith]

Thanks for sharing this moving account. You have suffered deeply, and for another person other than yourself. You have carved the hollow space in your heart which should, by now, be filling itself with joy and love. This is the upside of suffering, if you will...and you have. What is empty will be filled. I can't wait to hear about the wonders that come your way. I am cheering for your great happiness, now and to come.
Cheers!

[Deborah Calla - Huffpost Blogger]

what a lovely note. thank you for your wishes. to fill oneself with love and joy, now that's beautiful.

[LRM216]

In tribute to Chris, and also in tribute to yourself, love, laugh, give, take - just go on with your life and live the life he would so want you to. I relate to every line in your post, as I too lost the love of my life to cancer. He was 46 and I was 41. That was 21 years ago. I love and miss him dearly. I dated, had some fun, even had one long-term relationship, only to end it to take care of grand-kids. I am a young 62 and I was just diagnosed with breast cancer. Early diagnose, small tumor, but highly aggressive. I wish I was not going through this without the love of my life beside me, even if he was a "new" love of my life. Live, live, live - Chris will always be a part of you.

[ss193]

Deborah, I have experienced a loss much like yours. After more than a year of unrelenting grief, one day it occurred to me that I had lived a charmed life for thirty years with someone who loved me as much as a person is capable of loving another, and I had loved him the same way. How many people would like just one day of that ? I still grieve,but now understand that we were blessed the day we found each other. Once that ability to truly love is found with someone, it stays with you and your life's path will be better for it, always, not necessarily easier, just better.

[Deborah Calla - Huffpost Blogger]

I too believe once the heart is open it knows to stay open. Here's to our hearts.

[Jude Nagurney Camwell]

Deborah, your letter to Chris is beautiful. I feel that I'm taking away your inspiring gift of love and caring and that I have little to give back other than to tell you how brave and wonderful I think you are to have shared this. I recall my father tending lovingly, loyally, and attentively to my mother's every need as she slipped away little by little, day by day from a cancer she fought with all her will. It's a bittersweet memory - our last days together. How my parents loved one another! Mother loved us fiercely - loved life - and didn't want to part with us. I still carry the love she had for me wherever I go. It's something you can't touch, but you feel it strongly. You feel protected by something you can never quite explain. I hear you say that you want to again be in love and as I read your letter, I see you're still enveloped in the blessed love that you shared with Chris. It's a love that never leaves and I can tell it has carried you through each day you've been separated from his physical presence. It's an enriching love that has kept you strong and will still be present when and if the day comes that you've recognized a new love in your life. I hope your future is bright and I look forward to reading/hearing about how you're doing. ~ Jude

[Deborah Calla - Huffpost Blogger]

How could you say you don't have much to give? Know you have already given a lot of support with every positive comment you have posted here or on facebook. Thank you.

[JR Jake]

Great letter and I am sure a wonderful life. When you find something in life that fills you to the brim you feel untouchable because of that person, you do everything you can to nourish it for all its worth. I have found too many people (couples) are so afraid to give it their all, that they actually stymie each others growth. Not communicating doesn't always include words, because the slightest touch and a smile that you can carry through the day is sometimes better than words themselves. I feel your pain Debra, except my wife did not die; she divorced me. After 21 years I found I knew more about her in the first 3, than in the final 18 years. You can be lucky that your time was spent meaningfully and with love. I too long for that person I can share all of me with, I've found her but it has not happened yet. Good luck Debra and all those who are going after their dream.

[Pansey]

JR, I can relate to your loss. Divorce is a violent way for love to be taken from you. Here's to you finding your soul mate that will be with you until the end. Good luck.

[hillaryj]

I feel your loss......­........my Rich has been gone 10 years and I still feel like you do. He was my world and my soulmate.

I pray you will find that kind of love again.....­..........­..I know I won't.

[thielemania]

Deborah - I am so sorry for your loss. My husband died in 2005 from pancreas cancer. He was healthy - then sick - then dead- all in six months. He was diagnosed only days after the birth of our second son. Many of the the things you describe, I still feel today nearly 5 years later. I long to heal and seize love - but still miss him with all my being. I am so sorry that you have lost your husband. I wish comfort and peace for you as you continue on your journey.
Chris Thiele
http://widowisland.wordpress.com/

[Deborah Calla - Huffpost Blogger]

I'm so sorry for your loss. To see the person you love die of cancer is really hard. I think you and I one day will will learn to live with our husbands' love within us while loving others. A very wise friend has told me that when the heart is open, it stays open. All the best, Deborah

[Ziona Etzion]

Deborah

Tears were in my eyes as I read this article.

I totally understand this statement because I have the fortune to live with someone that gives me the love and security to share and show the person that I really am.

"He didn’t compete with me and he was so self assured that he gave me all the space to be who I am -- a loud, independent, opinionated woman. "

It is a cruel disease that makes the people that are ill kind of guilty to be leaving those that they love and that love them behind.

I lost my father and two young friends of mine went in their thirties.

My father's last words to me were "My little lady" . Said with all the love that he had shared with me.

There must be a cure for cancer!

I think that the Livestrong organization is doing great work to bring awareness and teaching people to live right.

I am considering doing an awareness event in Israel as part of their world outreach.

Looking for people to share this with, that will work with me to promote the event.

To give me courage to speak out and bring people together to share.

[writestuff2]

Deborah, Thanks for your love letter. I lost my husband six years ago to cancer. He was 57 and I was 53. He was too young to die and I was too young to be a widow. He always told others I was his best friend, and when I would hear that I would shake my head no, I didn't really understand what that meant until he died. I was there when he took his las breath and he looked deep into mine and our son's eyes. I miss him always and still haven't figured out how to live without him, but I am still trying. Thanks for reminding me that life and love is a gift and something about which we should never lose sight.

Read more at: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/deborah-calla/a-love-letter-to-my-husba_b_309092.html

[Deborah Calla - Huffpost Blogger]

Just remember that your husband and your best friend would really love you to have a full life, whatever that means to you.

[writestuff2]

Deborah, Thanks for your love letter. I lost my husband six years ago to cancer. He was 57 and I was 53. He was too young to die and I was too young to be a widow. He always told others I was his best friend, and when I would hear that I would shake my head no, I didn't really understand what that meant until he died. I was there when he took his las breath and he looked deep into mine and our son's eyes. I miss him always and still haven't figured out how to live without him, but I am still trying. Thanks for reminding me that life and love is a gift and something about which we should never lose sight.

[Julianne Lupica Boise]

I am so sorry. My father died Dec 2007, at age 65 from colon cancer. He and my mom married when they were only 19. They went from living with their parents to living together. They were so much a part of each other. However, they always managed to keep their own interests. This seems to have helped my mom tremendously in the last two years. She also "rescued" a dog shortly after my dad died. It helped her to have someone to take care of, and although my mom never allowed any of our dogs in their bed, this one has a spot right next to her where my dad used to sleep.

[Zenfull]

Your comments make those of us who are still lucky to have a partner with us stop for the present moment and think about what is so precious about our relationship. Perhaps we will even touch our loved one and tell them how much we love them. Thank you.

[Deborah Calla - Huffpost Blogger]

Please do touch your partner and tell them how much you love them.

[skatoolaki]

This was beautiful and had to be bittersweet to write - loving and painful all at once. Thank you for sharing. He was so blessed to have such a loving, wonderful wife to enjoy his life with and who held him right up until the very end, never letting him have to walk that road alone. You seem to be a very strong person and, no doubt, you are healing even as you are grieving. My thoughts and blessings are with you as you learn to walk a new road - know you are never truly "alone", as I have no doubt in my mind that he is still with you, at your side, every single moment.

[debmac85]

Thank you for this post Deborah. I lost my beautiful husband suddenly 9 months ago. He was just 44 and we were also not "perfect but perfect for each other". The hardest thing for me is to be without someone who really, really loved me. The loss is so huge. Just wanted you to know I understand.

[Deborah Calla - Huffpost Blogger]

And I understand you. Grab hold of his love and breath into it. His love is now your love.