It's been rainy here in Maine, on and off, but I have been giving some love to our memorial garden, where both my beloved grandmother, "Nagga" and the true love of my life, Terun Sabre Weed (aka GreenMountainBoy02) rest in peace.
It's tough to tend his resting place. It sucks, frankly. It's lonely. It's outside in my dooryard.
I mention this because it was just a couple of years ago when we got engaged in real time on Daily Kos.
I miss Terun. I really do. Losing him has freaked me up a bit but it does get better.
I miss my little Green Mountain Boy (and he was little: like 5 foot 5), but he was also a descendant of Tyendenaga Mohawk fame (Joseph Brant was raised to the third degree of Freemasonry personally by King George III) and I was always in awe of his heritage.
Messing around in the garden today, the one which has his ashes, has me thinking: He was the most amazing man I ever knew and he promised me that he would be with me for the rest of his life, and he was with me the whole time.
After he died, I had some time with his body. It was still warm. I loved him so much, but he was gone. I am so glad that I was there when he was alert enough to tell the doctors that he wanted to go to Hospice and let me crawl into his hospital bed with him when he made the decision and let him hold me. I've never loved anyone like that.
He's buried in my dooryard. I see him every day. He was only 48. He was the love of my life, and I try to keep that dooryard groomed, because he is buried there.
Terun with Geoffrey the Cat. Terun, I miss you sweetcakes.