I recently watched the movie Big Fish for the first time. I really liked it, even though I cried buckets of tears at the end. You see, my husband told stories.
Don’s experiences really happened and I was there for some of them. We would sit around the campfire with friends and family and I would watch with anticipation as he told of his adventures. The story would always end the same and it was fun to watch the reaction of those who were hearing it for the first time. Yes, one family fishing trip ended up that badly. . .
I know Don will have stories to tell me when I see him again. This time, I will be hearing them for the first time. What kinds of stories will he tell me? Will he tell me about watching me react to the news of his strokes and cancer? How he comforted me after deciding to remove him from life support? What was it like to die (by that time I will have my own experience with this)? Who was there from the other side when he died? How did he feel watching over his family? Did he show up to greet his mother-in-law as she passed through the veil (ha ha)? What was it like to see his father again in healthy mind? What has he been doing while I continue my earthly journey? Who has he met and helped? Did he find his long-lost ancestor, the one he was searching for in his family history work? I so want to hear his stories and look forward to the time when I can.
In the meantime, I am encouraging my family to remember the stories Don told here on earth. Memories fade and it is so important to remember the stories of our loved ones. That is how they remain immortal.
Swim on, Don.
