Dear Abby: It has been 18 years since my first wife died of cancer. She was only 49. We were a typical hard-working couple, having raised our three children to adulthood. My message is to husbands who are too busy to say “I love you” to their wives.
During the fourth of our five-year fight with cancer, I was holding my wife in my arms trying to comfort her as I did every day. She looked up at me and whispered, “I guess you do love me after all.” Her statement has haunted me ever since.
I have been happily married to a widow for the last 16 years, and I try not to let a day pass without putting my arms around her and saying, “I love you.” So, husbands and fathers out there, take the time to express the obvious. The results can be truly rewarding.
– Robert
Dear Robert: Twenty-20 hindsight can be painfully accurate. I’m printing your letter so that others will not experience the same regret you do. It takes only a moment to say “I love you.”
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Dear Abby: One time, my parents and I were towing a trailer along the East Coast. One evening just after dark, we arrived at a trailer park in Maine. On the way to our space, our trailer got stuck in a huge mud puddle. The more we tried to get it out, the deeper it sank into the muck.
Suddenly out of nowhere, a gang of men – at least 10; it looked like an army – came running up. One of them asked, “Are you having trouble?” We nodded frantically, and all of them got behind the trailer and freed it with one mighty push.
But there was still a problem. My father had been looking forward to a Maine lobster dinner for weeks. Now he feared that by the time we unhooked our truck and drove into town, all the seafood restaurants would be closed. One of our heroes heard Dad and handed him a set of keys. “Take my car,” he said, and then he gave us directions to the best lobster place in town.
We had a fabulous feast that night. But what really impressed us was the spontaneous kindness of the folks at that trailer park in Ogunquit, Maine. It was the most memorable part of a great trip.
-Still Smiling
Dear Still Smiling: Well said. It isn’t so much where you go, but the people you meet that make a vacation special.
Dear Abby is written by Abigail Van Buren, also known as Jeanne Phillips, and was founded by her mother, Pauline Phillips. Write Dear Abby at DearAbby.com or P.O. Box 69440, Los Angeles, CA 90069.
