Our song plays on loop. The record finally cuts off. Tonight was beautiful, maybe because you were there, we danced all night, we fell in love all over again. I remembered yet again, when it was just you and I dancing together, like young lovers once more—so innocent, so naïve. It was beautiful—you were beautiful. After all these years, faithfully, I am still yours. I remain amazed at all we have accomplished. Through Life, Love, and Family.

Do you remember the days down by the lake? Our song played in the car, the same car that sealed our fate, the same car which held our ecstasy. I still can’t believe how beautiful it was.

Do you remember our wedding, the holy matrimony? We danced to our song in front of all those people. You weren’t embarrassed; you thought it was cute that I couldn’t dance, so you led.

Do you remember October 1971? Do you remember the fourteen hours of labor? It was rough on you, but strenuous on me. Waiting to find out if in fact, I would have a little boy. A boy whom I could rub off my influence, play ball in the yard, and have father/son talks. I was ready to be a father, and I knew you were ready to be a mother. We were on our way, and on the way home, our brand new baby son listened to our song and gave his first scream.

Throughout the years, we had our challenges; we had our problems. We tried to conceive again without success, we had our moments of laughter and moments of tears, and then you fell ill.

Louise, do you remember that night; you know the one in the hospital. I had the nurse play our song. You weren’t well, the cancer was eating you away, but we danced. And in that moment, there was no yesterday, no later, no tomorrow. In that moment it was just you and I right then. I stayed with you that night and the next morning we watched the sun rise. I kissed your cheek, I remember you turned to me, smiled and said, “I love you.” I didn’t say anything, and to this day I regret it. That night you passed away, that night I died too. It’s been seven years now since your time on earth was through. But every night we dance. Our song plays every night, all night. To wake up in the morning is to lose you again; to fall asleep is to rekindle what was lost throughout the years. It’s May twenty-eighth Louise. Fifty years today, and like the day we sealed our fate in that car that played our song, I remain faithfully yours.

The days grow closer until I see you Louise. I am not afraid; if any it’s just the opposite. That day can’t get here soon enough. But until the day we reunite I look forward to each sleep. For every night I know you’ll be there, we will dance, and it will be beautiful. But most of all, I will tell you what I fear I didn’t tell you enough. “I love you Louise” I always have and always will, even if I didn’t show it. I love you with all my heart Louise, Happy fiftieth anniversary. I will see you shortly, we will dance to our song and it will be beautiful.