On October 5, 2005, my wife died.

Moira was a gentle soul who only wanted to help others. She loved life.

On December 7, 2000, a neighbor called me at the office and said Moira had a very bad headache. I rushed home and rushed Moira to the emergency room. On the way, she said she could smell gasoline. Everything smelled normal to me. With a brain tumor, you can have a heightened sense of smell. That day, December 7, 2000, was the start of our battles with cancer.

December 7 is Pearl Harbor Day. On December 7, 1941, the bombs dropped on Pearl Harbor. War in the Pacific was officially declared later, but the war started there that day. It was the first of many battles. When I stood on the white memorial above the USS Arizona in the bright morning sun, I thought of December 7, 1941, and I thought of December 7, 2000. That was the day the battles started for us.

Almost five years later, on October 5, 2005, they stopped for Moira

They didn’t for me. I think they didn’t for many who loved her.

I needed time. For me, there were still battles to fight.

August 6, 1945 was the day the bomb dropped on Hiroshima. The end of the war in the Pacific was officially proclaimed later, but the battling stopped there that day. In a bright flash of light, tragic as it was for so many and sad, new life began.

August 6 is the Feast of the Transfiguration. On that day 2,000 years ago, a humble fisherman from Galilee was shown to walk through great sadness, change and be robed in clothes as bright as a flash of lighting. His followers did not understand. They did not understand why there would still be battles, but they saw new life and found hope.

On August 6, 2011, Mary became my wife.

I saw a beam of sunlight brush Mary’s face and reflect off the white of her dress. On the arm of her brother, she turned to the center aisle. On each side, smiling faces turned to follow her steps. Eyes wide in wonder, I watched and waited. In the bright afternoon in front of our families and friends, we turned to each other and said “Yes.” On that day, August 6, 2011, our new life began.

There will still be trials, battles to be faced and fought. Moira taught me never to stop fighting. Beginning December 7, 2000 and through the battles that followed, I watched her grow calmer, sweeter. On that last day, October 5, 2005, before she left, I saw her smile. I see her glancing back with that soft smile. Moira showed me that the battles do end. There is new life and hope. On August 6, 2011, Mary helped me find that life and hope.

My life holds special days.

I see those days are not mine alone.

And, I am amazed at the gift a day can be.

Thank you,

Grandpa Jim