There is a lot of love filling this chapel today, and Jeff and I want to express our heartfelt appreciation for that love that has filled the faces, hearts, flowers and cards coming through the doors of the hospital and our home over the past few weeks.  One of the sweet ironies about Linda was that she never realized how much she was loved and how beautiful and smart she was.  And as she watches over us today, she is probably wondering what all the fuss is about.  But we all know what the fuss is about.

Linda and I met on a blind date when she was fifteen and I was sixteen. My date became ill and my friend, Tom Hillin, called Linda, his cousin at the last minute. I have to tell you that I was thunderstruck when I saw her-those green-blue eyes, those bee-stung lips and that beautiful auburn hair.  I followed her around all night like a little puppy, and of course she could have cared less.  I know now that God took a hand that night—he made Cookie Ward sick so Linda and I could meet.

We were married three years later—both with very little money. I worked only part time while she worked full time so that I could get  through college. 

Ten years later she bore us a son.  She was expecting a girl, and when she came out of the operating room, she said, “I had a stinkin’ boy!”  Well that stinkin’ boy quickly became the most precious thing in her life.  We could not asked for a better son than Jeff—he was constantly at Linda’s side, holding her hand and comforting her with his gentle voice, and he has been my voice and my rock through all of this. 

Our favorite times were the mornings when I would bring her the paper and her coffee.  I did that for more than twenty years, and it gave me great pleasure.  Of course that all changed about six months ago.  She lost her taste for coffee, and she was too tired to read the paper.

Over the past year she has sustained pain that none of us could imagine.  There were many times as late as the end of June, I would ask her to stay home, but she would say no that the quarterlies were due or the monthlies were due and there was no one else to do them.  She would get up, take her shower and then lie down to get her energy back so she could get dressed.  I had to drive her to work as she laid back in the seat.

Let’s not forget Linda’s legacy that putting the other person first and letting them know that they are special can make us happy as well. Whether it’s getting up at 3:30 to make blueberry muffins or a cake for someone’s birthday or picking out a butterfly pin for Lana, or saying “My friend Carolyn would like this” or being on the lookout for something special for Sherene’s two girls or asking me if would be all right to give something extra to someone at the office who would need money.

During our forty-three years of marriage, I was inspired to write almost two volumes of poems.  One each year for Valentines Day, one for our anniversary, one for her birthday and one for Christmas.  I thought this one appropriate for today as it was on our 26th wedding anniversary

 A flower grows just in my view
 Its petals a thousand colors.
 I watch as time and winds of storm
 Cause the petals to break and fall
 But with each one a thousand more grow
 Each in a thousand colors.

All of us have been blessed by knowing her.  Mine has been a special blessing because I lived everyday with her. 

I’ll miss our mornings, Baby, but I know you are no longer in pain and at long last have found peaceful sleep.  Come and see me when you can.