It’s 4:05 pm. I just got back from a day of errands in London. Something was different about my front door. There was a little white rectangle sticking to it. From Purolator. There are 17 boxes waiting for me at their office in St. Thomas. And I can pick them up after 5:00. Did I mention that it’s 4:08?
Oh my God! Jody, your books are here. My dear wife. The story we shared is going to reach people … whoever wants to read it. I’m so happy, and so sad that you’re not here to share this with me. Except you are here, and always will be.
“Yes, I certainly will always be with you, dear man. I’m happy that people are going to read about us. Maybe we’ll show them some things about living a life, about loving another person. I love you so much, Bruce. I miss touching you. I miss holding hands. But we’ll be together again someday, husband. We will walk a different path and we will walk it together.”
Yes, Jodiette. We will.
Tomorrow morning, I’m getting on a train and going to Belleville for four days. When I get back, I’m going to write an e-mail to the 300 folks who have been with Jody and me since she was diagnosed in November, 2013. I’m going to ask them if they would like a book. It’s free. I’ll pay for the postage. And I’ll suggest that, if they want to, they donate some money to their favorite charity in memory of Jody.
But today is today. I don’t know how many of you are out there in cyberworld, but if you would like a copy of Jodiette: My Lovely Wife, e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org and give me your address. Our story is your story.
Okay, it’s 4:17. It takes about 20 minutes to get to the Purolator office. Maybe I should get organized, get goin’, get Jody’s books!