My love, my Ross, passed away on February 12, 2024, exactly twenty-seven years and one day from the first time we met.
And each and every one of those days of knowing him, being with him and loving him brought me joy.
Joy, a seemingly simple little three letter word, embodied all that was Ross.
I believe it was just his nature to generously give of himself.
One foggy and rainy winter night we were on the way to a holiday gathering at a friend's house.
As we headed down the dark highway, only several yards away, we witnessed a car swerve and crash into another car. When we got close enough, Ross immediately pulled over to the side of the road, jumped out of the car to see what help he could give.
Yes, he was that person.
I think what I loved most about him was his respect for my individual self.
We were opposites as far as personality goes. He a confident social extrovert, I a shy introvert uncomfortable in a group.
But, whenever we were in a gathering he made sure to encourage and include me in the conversation.
"Did you know that Lynda writes a blog?" he would say. Or, "Lynda is a beautiful knitter."
He was a kind soul. His soft brown eyes gave that away.
Even if someone may not have been kind to him he would say, "But she's a good person."
He was great with customer service people. Never expressed irritability but somehow always got what he set out to achieve.
With a twinkle in his eye and a sly smile, he would say, "I just used the force."
Did you know he had a dancing name. "Boogaloo Swimp". Don't ask :)
He had a catalog of jokes, sometimes complete with accents when necessary. And although he probably told me the same joke more than once, I'd still giggle.
He was my yarn shopping buddy. My podcast co-host. He knew the knitting lingo. "Do you have any FO's to show me?" he'd ask.
He loved being Pop-pop.
Although I miss so much already, am achingly heartbroken and wonder what I'm going to do without him,