August 17, 2024

Dear Annette,

Today, August 17th, is the two-year anniversary of your death, yet it seems like just yesterday and forever ago. Two long years I have now lived without you. The sadness is at times still overwhelming, yet my mind and heart are also flooded with so many wonderful memories of our life together. One I have thought about a great deal lately is of a January day 2½ years ago. It was a couple months after your second round of chemo and we had learned that while the tumors had diminished in size, they were still present. We understood then that this would be a chronic condition and were unsure what the future would look like.

Perhaps not knowing is as much a blessing as a curse. Instead of putting life on hold until things were clearer, we instead felt an urgency to make the best use of whatever time we had. So, on that January day we decided we would go on an audacious trip given the circumstances. Over the next month we planned and made arrangements for hiking the Haute Route, a two-week trek starting in Chamonix, France, and ending in Zermatt, Switzerland. Mont Blanc to the Matterhorn over 11 mountain passes through the Swiss Alps. We knew there was a chance we might not be able to go but wanted everything in place if we could.

A couple months later your blood marker numbers that indicate cancer started to rise again, and you began your third round of chemotherapy. We calculated the time we would have after you finished that cycle to get in shape and felt the trip was still doable with some adjustments, so continued to plan, review maps, create packing lists, do as much hiking as you were able, and dream of that adventure.

Sadly, things did not turn out as we had hoped. We didn’t know that as we eagerly counted down the days to that bucket list trip, we were really counting down the last days of your life. You died, Annette, on the day we would have arrived in Chamonix…. And yet the joy we felt that we might still have a chance to experience something like that sustained us through a challenging time and gave us hope. I am so very proud we decided to live and love life so fully when it would have been so easy to give up. For this I am forever grateful!

I realize my love, that you and I still need to do this hike. So, on this very special day I am writing this letter to you from the hotel in Chamonix we would have stayed in two years ago. I am alone here, though with you in my heart. I’ll spend several days hiking and exploring the Chamonix valley, as we had planned for our trip, then begin the long and challenging pilgrimage to Zermatt for both of us. I have some of your ashes with me and will scatter these as I hike so you will be forever part of this very special place.

As I sit surrounded by the incredible beauty of this area, Annette, I hear your voice so clearly reaching out to me. What I hear is this:

“David, love of my life, remember the quote we adopted as our touchstone when we were going through cancer treatments… “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.” And we lived that, my dear best friend! And so, I have a wish and some advice for you. Life is a big, crazy, scary, beautiful, wondrous, and sacred dance, and I will always, always be your partner. But there are experiences and other people also on the dance floor, waiting to take a spin with you. So, my one-word of advice; what I wish for you more than anything… is that you dance! Dance with joy and abandon! Please David, my beautiful soulmate, for each day you are gifted in this amazing world and life, please, continue always to dance… and know that I will be dancing with you!”

My dear Annette, I promise on all that is sacred to me and in honor of your life, that I will! Thank you, Annette! Thank you so very much!

With eyes full of tears, and a heart full of love and beautiful memories,

David