ONCE MORE FOR PAM

Today marks what would have been my late wife's 65th birthday.Pam would have hated that, turning 65 (!). According to her, she steadfastly never aged past 39.
Anyone who has followed this blog or my Facebook page or read any of my interviews, knows that I comment often on Pam. I wonder sometimes if readers find this tiring and see me as some kind of pathetic, obsessive person who can't get past losing her. In a sense, I guess that's true --- I think about her daily and miss her terribly. But I've gone on with my life well enough, thank you. I have persevered. Partly because that's the way I'm made, partly because that's how Pam would have wanted it.In the final analysis, I don't care what others may think. Not in this regard. As a writer who knows how to use words and has the outlets to do so, it is altogether fitting and proper --- maybe even obligatory --- for me to utilize these capabilities, if I wish, to carry on Pam's memory and to share my feelings about the great love of my life. Anyone not interested in hearing about her or my feelings for her is free not to read what I have to say.
This year, to commemorate her birthday, I want to share the words to a simple, sad, sweet song (by Jud Strunk) that heard for the first time a while back on the radio. I tracked down the lyrics and memorized them. I think they do a good job of capturing the kind of love and devotion that I felt/feel for Pam:
He remembers the first time he saw herHe remembers the first thing she said;He remembers the first time he saw herAnd the night that she came to his bed.
He remembers her sweet way of saying"Honey, has something gone wrong?"He remembers the love and the teasin'And the reason he wrote her this song.
"I'll give you a daisy a day, dearI'll give you a daisy a day;I'll love you until the rivers run stillAnd the four winds we know blow away."
They would go for a walk in the eveningFor years I would watch them go by;And their love that was more than the clothes that they woreCould be seen in the gleam of their eyes.
As a kid they would take me for candyHow I loved to go tagging along;We'd hold hands as we walked to the cornerAnd the old man would sing her his song.
"I'll give you a daisy a day, dearI'll give you a daisy a day;I'll love you until the rivers run stillAnd the four winds we know blow away."
Now he walks down the street in the eveningAnd he stops by the old candy store;And I somehow believe he's believin'He's still holding her hand like before.
He can feel all her love walking with himAnd he smiles at the things she might say;Then the old man walks up to the hilltopAnd he gives her a daisy a day.


It's always awkward this time of year to think in terms of the word "happy" – as in Happy Birthday. Yet the occasion of Pam's birthday is a happy time. For if she'd never been born, you see, then I never would have been blessed with having her in my life for forty-plus years … So happy birthday, babe. I love you.