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| Linda Jean Dingman Riggan March 30, 1949 - September 12, 2014 |
Those of you who have read my stories will probably agree that I am a romantic in my writings and may even go so far as to call me a sentimental romantic, you would be correct either way. I have always wanted to inject my feelings into the stories so the reader would know that I cared about the people I write about. I loved Linda for many years and it is not a feeling I will give up easily and I want everyone to know. I have tried several times over the last few weeks to tell Linda's story. I have written many paragraphs about how we met, lived and loved each other. Three or four times I have sat down to write only to reach a stopping point and returning later to erase the words because they wouldn't say what I felt in my heart. Hopefully these words will find their way to the end.
I can't tell you the specific date that we first met, I can't tell you when we went out on our first date or the first kiss or even the date of the night I asked her to marry me. What I can say is that Linda was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen and she hung on every word I said. I can't say it was love at first sight because I don't think you can fall in love that quickly, we were just a couple of teenagers trying to find our way in life. I am just thankful that we chose the same path, I am thankful Linda let me love her.
I can tell you Linda cared about people and saw beauty in her surroundings. She had a special fondness for children and animals. She enjoyed creating beautiful things as evidenced by the care she took creating her crafts, each item she made was perfect in every detail even though it may have gone to complete strangers who would never know her. She fussed over little details like a lone weed in the lawn or a flower that didn't get enough sunlight or a thread not pulled tight enough. When I worked on a woodworking project I would call for her to look at it and give me her opinion of the design or the completed project, I often told her of a flaw that had to be fixed and she would say it was so minute that only I would know of it's existence and not worry about it. I would repair the flaw and now know that I was trying to meet her standards of beauty. Sadly I had started some of my best work shortly before her health deteriorated and I had to put the work on hold so I could devote my time to her, though she saw the finished design she will never see the completed coffee and end tables I made for her.
One of the first things I did when we bought this house was to build her a covered deck. The warm days of fall, winter and springtime or the cool mornings of the hot summer would find her there talking to her sister Eileen or Clay on the phone. Her laughter was at times loud and could be heard from inside the house but it was sincere and infectious. She would sit on the deck crocheting baby blankets for babies who would never know how much care and attention went into them and occasionally look up to watch the Hummingbirds fight over the feeders she kept filled or the Blue birds as they carried food to their young in the houses I built for her. Sometimes I joined her, we would talk and I would be infected with her love of life as she saw it, certainly it was a more beautiful world because she was in it.
Growing up I never heard the word love spoken, Linda was the first person, I can recall, to tell me she loved me so thru out our life together I made a habit of several times every day telling her how much I loved her. I would walk up and give her a hug or a kiss and tell her how much I loved her, she in turn would profess her love for me. When she would have a bout of depression, I would hold her tight, talk to her slowly pulling her back to me, I would tell her over and over that I loved her, I kissed away the tears of her depression and promised to take care of her and love her forever.
When we went somewhere I would reach over and take her hand and hold it as I drove, her skin was soft and soothing to the touch, I still reach out for her but find only the course fabric of the cushion. When we walked around a store or thru a street fair she would let me hold her hand, I always wanted her by my side so everyone would know we were together. When people would ask how long we had been married I would proudly tell them. I can't say we were the perfect couple as we, like many people, had our occasional issues but we had learned long ago that we could talk to each other without arguments or shouting or belittling. We talked of many things, truly talked, and I am already missing those talks, her ideas and opinions meant the world to me. I desperately want to talk to her now.
Her friend Diane recently wrote to me and told me that Linda had once told her of when we first met, she told Diane that I was so good looking that I could have had any girl I wanted yet I wanted her and she didn't know why. Little did she know that I felt the same way about her, she was so beautiful. She never thought herself as beautiful but I think when you look at her picture above and read these words you can understand why I wanted her. The ravages of time and age took it's toll on Linda as it often does to most of us but it never destroyed her inner beauty and when I looked into her eyes it was not the age spots or few strands of grey in her thinning hair that I saw, I could only see the seventeen year old beauty that let me love her.
The day before Linda died she was semi conscious, I was out of the room during one of her more vivid moments when Maggie, Clays girl friend, came to get me, Linda was calling for me. I sat down by the bed and told her I was here, her heart was racing, her breathing was rapid, her last words were to me. " I love you, I love you "she said and soon after she drifted into a coma, I would give anything to hear those words from her lips now.
The morning after Linda had passed away I went into the garage and sat in a lawn chair, I stared out at the western sky, it was as clear and blue as her eyes. The song birds she so dearly loved were flying around singing their melodies, the squirrels that made her laugh made their way across the lawn and scampered up the trees, the air was peaceful and quiet. The reality that I would never again hear Linda call to me weighed heavy on my heart. Until now I had been strong for Linda but she was no longer here so I hung my head and cried as I had never cried before. This will be the first of many heart wrenching cries that I will have over the next few days and weeks, there will also be moments of pain where I was able to choke back the sobs but the tears still trickled down my cheeks. Even now these many weeks later as I write these words I have to stop and wipe the tears from my eyes. I wonder will the pain ever go away, will the memory induced tears ever stop flowing, I wonder, do I really want them to. I miss her so much.
Soon after the hospital bed and equipment were removed from the bedroom I vacuumed and shampooed the carpet, I reassembled the bed with clean sheets and a quilt Linda had made. Lizzy will hop up on the bed and lay there as she often did with Linda but I haven't been able to bring myself to touch it. To sleep on our bed and not feel Linda's arm around me as she snuggled up to me is to painful so I sleep on the couch. The phone recorder still has her voice greeting the caller, to erase it now seems so final besides listening to her voice fills an emptiness in my heart.
Friends and neighbors will ask me how am I doing, after composing myself my eyes will water and I look away and tell them " oh, I'm OK, I have good days and bad days but I'm OK ". I can handle the daytime, I can keep busy with something to occupy my mind but when the darkness comes and the house is quiet I listen for her voice and can't hear it. You see Linda was never quiet no matter what task she had at hand, if she wasn't talking to me or someone else she was singing a song. She had a beautiful voice that was never mellowed by age and she knew the words to many songs both old and new. I can't believe there were times when I wished she would be quiet. The nighttime was when we would talk about various things, it was when we made plans for tomorrow or next year. Now it's the nighttime I dread the most, the silence is overwhelming. Now I awake in the morning and think about what I should do today, making it thru the day without tearing up is a good starting point.
With Linda by my side I never worried about the future knowing that she would be next to me to make it brighter, now I have to look at a calendar just to figure out what day it is. When someone wants me to do something on a certain day I tell them to remind me because I don't plan beyond the moment.
Everyone tells me it takes time to heal the pain and after a time the fond memories will hurt less, Right now I can't believe there is that much time in all of eternity.
The title to my blog is Holding On To The Past, I feel that the past is all that I have now. If I could I would go back to 1967 just to see her smile and hear her laughter. If I could I would go back to just a month ago and hold her in my arms one more time, kiss her and tell her how much I love her. Linda was many things to many people, to me she was my wife, lover, confidant and best friend, she was and always will be the love of my life. I miss her terribly, I love her still and always will.
I love you Linda.
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It has been over eight years since Linda passed away, I still mourn for her and guess that I always will. There are times when something will trigger a memory that brings her back to me in clarity and that memory will in turn produce tears or smiles. I still miss her and love her.
