4.20.2018

Not Nearly Enough

The following is what I wrote and read at Cindy's memorial service, April 7, 2018. It was not nearly enough; we always want more. It's hard to honor a life with words alone. These words are not a testament to anything but my desire to publicly honor my wife at her memorial. My hope is that our love and our life together was testimony enough.




For 15 months, since we learned the cancer metastasized, I've had a recurring nightmare. I’m supposed to be giving this speech, this actual speech, but in the dream I can't find something I need - the church, my notes, my glasses. The words. I still don’t have the words, but I do have some stories.

It was our first day in Atlanta, just two days after the wedding and we were cooking dinner. I was cutting something and turned to ask Cindy a question, knife in hand. She screamed. She dropped what she was holding, grabbed me, buried her face in my chest and sobbed "You scared me! I don't even know who you are and I've left my home to be with you!" My first thought was "Great. What have I gotten myself into?"

Later I casually mentioned "Hey, we're almost out of toilet paper." She replied "If you think I'm going to be responsible for buying toilet paper in this house you’re wrong! We're doing this together, or your doing this on your own!" My first thought was, "Yep. That's more like what I was expecting."

You may have seen toilet paper Cindy. I was lucky to be who she turned to when she was uncertain or scared.

About 10 years into our marriage we had a rough patch. She was traveling a lot with work; I was feeling neglected. To make it up to me she planned a Texas Hill Country vacation for just the two of us. I thought it would be a nice, romantic trip. Anyone who has vacationed with Cindy will know that I was mistaken. There would be planned activities. We would execute said planned activities, as scheduled, and enjoy them! And take pictures!

There was also the Cindy who re-scheduled business trips to attend a funeral with me because she knew I couldn't do it on my own. And the Cindy who dropped everything, even dates with her husband, to go shopping with teenage nieces because "Good Lord, Dexter, we can't send that child to [whatever it was] without new shoes!"

Everyone recognizes planning Cindy and giving Cindy. I hope they know it was all for love and service.

Cindy and I were the quintessential “opposites attract” couple, and she was definitely the social one in our partnership. Early on I would go to parties and such with her simply to be with her, but I typically wasn’t interested in the party. The longer we were married the easier it was for me to say no to dressing up for a Halloween party or attending some company outing, but she never stopped seeking out and planning social opportunities. She learned that cajoling me to go didn’t work well. I’d go, but be miserable company. But she just kept doing her thing … seeking, suggesting, inviting … and over time I learned to trust her. She never pushed me beyond what she thought I could handle.

This is how we ended up back at this church. Cindy made friends with the Whitson’s. That friendship led to others and over time she carefully insisted and invited and baby-stepped me all the way back to church.

Many people know decisive Cindy, but she was also compassionate and patient. I like to think my obsintance taught her patience, but it could be she was just waiting me out, knowing she’d get her way eventually.

She was the driving force behind all our house purchases. We bought the house on Celadine in 2003 but for what seemed like a year we drove neighborhoods, picked up flyers, went to open houses. This was torture for 6 year old Griffin, but he soon latched on to his role of hopping out of the car to retrieve the flyers. One day Griffin and I were running errands in Cindy's car. As some of you know, Griffin is prone to sleeping in any sort of vehicle. There was a stop sign right in front of a house for sale and sure enough, while I waited for traffic to clear, Griffin jumped up, hopped out, fetched the flyer and climbed back in. I don't think he even woke up.

Once Cindy took on a project, whether it was buying a house, partnering with me, caring for her parents or raising a son, she was tenacious. The houses became homes, the partnership grew strong, the parents were comforted, and the son became a man, who was truly her pride and joy. 

I tell these stories to give you a glimpse of the Cindy I knew, but stories are not enough. That's tough for me to admit, because I know the power of stories, stories like the Gospel. More powerful, however, are real relationships. If you had one with Cindy, you have been blessed. If you didn’t, then come talk to me, I've at least got stories to tell.






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