Farewell, for now, my love
Written to speak at my husband's funeral. The link below is for his obituary and will have a video of the service available soon.
I always knew he was special. I’m so grateful to everyone for sharing how much. I’ve loved reading the messages, especially those sharing things he’d done for others or the impact he had on them. It does my heart good to hear these. His kids and I would appreciate it if you sent me more of your Jim stories, so we could save them to have.
There are so many things I could say about my husband. He was my best friend, the love of my life, the man of my dreams. He wasn’t perfect. But he was perfect for me. And I will miss him terribly.
He loved his kids so much. He was always proud of them and would brag about them whenever he could.
I will miss his confidence. I was always in awe of how he could walk in a room and make friends or how he never feared having a mic and camera shoved in his face. How he could stand in front of a crowd to preach or teach. How he always seemed so sure of who he was and what he was doing. It’s definitely not a trait I possess. But I always knew how much confidence he had in me as well. He made me feel like I could do just about anything. I don’t know if he honestly believed that or if he was just that good a salesman to convince me of it.
He could sell anything, I firmly believe. That carried over to his jokes, too. With a straight face, he could convince you that the sky was green and the grass was blue. His favorite tall tale was when Mady was tiny, he had her convinced Dairy Queen and Burger King were married and had a baby named Wendy. He had a whole family tree mapped out.
Eventually, she caught on to her daddy’s tricks. She also realized I was terrible at keeping a straight face and would look at me. He would pretend to be mad that I gave it away, but I think he enjoyed just messing with me there too.
I think I was his favorite person to pick on, especially when we started dating because I fell for it every time. Like the time he spun me a story about how he was going to have to walk home in the rain from County Station 1. We had just started dating and I felt so bad, I went and picked him up to drive him home. Years later he confessed he stayed late on purpose, just so he’d have an excuse, then he laid it on thick. All because he wanted to see me. For all I know, he’d even hid his car behind the station.
He loved picking on people. He always said, “If I didn't like you I wouldn’t pick on you.”
Another thing I admired greatly about my husband was how he treated people, like truly treated them. It never mattered to him if they were someone of “importance” or not. He was always respectful but always honest. His bosses might say he was too honest at times, but you always knew where you stood with Jim.
He loved his job. It was long and sometimes he’d grumble a little. But he truly loved it. He loved having a chance to speak to inmates, to hear their stories and be a positive influence for them. I think his favorite transports were when he got to take someone being released. He’d tell them, “I don’t want to see you again.” – he wanted to challenge them to do better for themselves. There were a few he was sad to see go – not because he didn’t want them to move forward, he always wanted them to do better – but because he enjoyed being able to talk with them.
Deep down, he was a big softie and that was clear in his love for our furbabies. When we first started dating, he had to meet my dog Luna to see if he passed her test. He did, but he always teased me that he had treats in his pocket that he secretly slipped to her.
A few months in our relationship, I brought in a stray puppy that had been living in my apartment complex. He gave me a hard time for that one, but finally admitted he was a day away from making the suggestion. I couldn’t figure out a name for the little thing, so I finally gave in to Jim’s request of naming him Turd Bucket. He told me that’s what I get for letting the fireman name it.
Bucket, as we call him, definitely became his dad’s dog. They spent a lot of time cuddled on the recliner – I’ve no doubts he cuddled the dog more than he cuddled me!
He also gave me so much grief when I adopted our cat, Spaz. Also named by Jim because he was spastic. Eventually, our cat got sick and passed and Jim cried when it happened. He’d deny that to everyone, but the two had gotten pretty close in the end, spending many nights dozing together in that worn out recliner of his.
The craziest pet he had wasn’t my fault, however. It was a little racoon named Rosie – not sure who named her – who lived at the prison. Before transportation, Jim would sometimes work shifts at the front gate, called Post 1. He had Rosie the Racoon trained. She would come to the door to see him and even take food from his hand. When he learned he was being moved to transport he said he was sad because he’d not get to see her as often.
And he loved getting to see the K9s for the search teams. He’d always get excited about the newest puppies and had to describe them to me, complete with their big howls. Which always made Bucket join in and howl too.
Honestly, I could spend hours talking about the things I loved about Jim. But one of the biggest things, one of the most important things, was the way he loved others. He would go out of his way to help someone. Jim dedicated his life to helping and serving others in any way he could. If he found out someone needed money or something that we could provide, he’d always say, “God blessed me, I might as well bless someone else.”
I don’t think I can ever bless anyone the way God blessed me when he gave me Jim. Nor can I express how blessed I feel. We were together for nearly 10 years, married for seven, and he gave me three great step kids that I love as my own.
He taught me so much about how to love myself and others. He strengthened my faith in many ways. He challenged me – sometimes so much I wanted to smack him – but also in good ways.
And he loved me more than I think anyone ever could. I have no doubts about how much.
I would do it all over again, even knowing how our story ends. Although, this is not goodbye. I know he’s in heaven and I bet he’s already playing tricks on the angels or found some dogs to love on.
So, to my dear Jim, I love you very much and I’ll see you later.
And I can just hear him saying “I love you too, beautiful. Try not to overdo it.”
And I can just hear him saying “I love you too, beautiful. Try not to overdo it.”
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