Love and Helicopters

This year, I will have been married for 15 years. 15 years! After a rocky first marriage before I knew I deserved better, I met Roger and knew pretty close to immediately that he was the one. Luckily, he felt the same and here we are. 3 awesome kids, a wonderful life, lots of laughs and fun. We support each other. Always. Has it always been easy? Hell, no. Has it always been worth the fight? Hell, yes.

My dad respected Roger. Roger looked up to and respected my dad. His death was just as hard on him, although he would never let me know it because he knows my pain is so deep in this. My dad had given Roger his full blessing one early morning before work in April of 2004 to propose. He consistently told me over these past years how good a man Roger is and how proud he was to watch our life together.

My dad and I were always close. I used to hold his hand. A lot. It is one of my most special things to remember. On walks, sitting in church, laying next to him in his death bed. His hands always held mine, even when he passed that role on to Roger. I even danced with him to "Daddy's Hands" at the wedding. This is one of my favorite pictures of us.

This last weekend, Roger and I spent the weekend celebrating our 15 years of marriage. Our actual anniversary is August 28, but Roger's work is taking him out of town that weekend, so we celebrated early. The weekend was blissful. We relaxed, we walked (a ton), we talked, we giggled, we dreamed, we reminisced. It was amazing. 

One of the things we discussed was how much Dad loved Gettysburg (that is where we were) and how I felt closer to him there because I wished we could stop at every sign with him and he could soak it all in and talk about it as only he could. I had a moment where I just missed him so much, but talked to him (in my head) and thanked him for loving me and giving me these great memories and parts of him. I swear I even saw his silhouette in the clouds at one point, but that may have been wishful thinking or imagination on my part. 

When Roger and I returned from our trip, we had one more special event together, and it was a Billy Idol concert. Anyone who knows Roger well knows that he LOVES Billy Idol. I think that had I allowed it, we would have danced to "Dancing with Myself" at our wedding instead of "Feels Like Home," by Chantal Kreviazuk. 

At the concert, I cried. Weird that Billy Idol made me cry, but he discussed his dad and did a tribute to him discussing his dying listening to one of his songs. "Ghosts in My Guitar" was the song and in the background he had a slide show of pictures of his father and him. Tears. Then, just as I was getting all into myself about missing my own father, I looked up. 

To my left, above the huge TV screen, was a helicopter. The timing was not lost on me. It seems to be a symbol for me when I need a little reminder of his presence. It instantly made me smile. 

Dad has always been there. Always. He was an example of the best husband, the best father, and best all around human. 

Roger emulates so many of the same qualities and I know why Dad respected him so much. Roger loves his daughter. Roger respects his daughter. Roger supports the family. Roger loves and supports his kids. Roger loves his community. When dad passed my hand from his to Roger, he knew we would have a great life together. *Dad "is smiling." 

I know it, too. Thanks, Dad.

Happy Anniversary, Roger! Here's to at least 15 more!