Ten years ago, on Saturday night, 2 August 2003, my first husband Gary took his final breath of this life.
Gary was born in Michigan, where he grew up outside Detroit with his loving parents and older and younger brothers. He died in the city we had fallen in love with and where we’d made our home since 1995: Sydney, Australia. I was with him when he died, along with our son and my stepson, Gary’s son from his first marriage.
Gary was so many things to so many people: Son, brother, friend. Uncle, cousin, nephew, employee, employer. He was a gifted gardener and a gifted photographer, a man who loved nature, animals, and all living creatures. He was a scuba diver, a real estate agent, a baseball coach and umpire, a great hand at the Aussie barbecue, and a DIY expert.
Above everything else, Gary was a loving family man, a husband and father who gave his immediate family the daily gift of his love, care, and devotion. I know I cannot fathom the ongoing grief and loss my son and stepson experience at his absence in their lives. I can only attest to my own, and to my gratitude that Gary was my first husband and the father of my son. I’m beyond grateful that my son travelled to the UK to be with me this week, especially for this day.
As always, I can’t write about Gary without acknowledging my gratitude for having met Clive, my loving second husband, who today accompanied us to a beautiful, wild headland in Suffolk, UK, one of my favourite places and one I believe Gary also would have loved. My son and I scattered red rose petals amongst the wild ferns, beneath the big Suffolk sky, at the edge of the eternal, moving sea.
In remembrance, Gary. We love you and we miss you.
Filed under: My Journey