Missing Someone I've Never Met

Do you think it's possible to miss someone you've never met?

Those of you who know this story, bear with me for a second. My husband and I met briefly, once, three years ago, then didn't speak again for a year. When we met again, we almost immediately fell in love, and six weeks later were married. It's been a wonderful journey ever since. As we learn more and more about each other, our love grows stronger. I feel blessed every day that this man is in my life.

My husband's parents died well before we met, in the mid 90s. They died way too young, in their 50s.... they'd be nearly the same age as my parents if they were alive today. I've seen pictures and heard stories, but never knew them. I think about this when my friends struggle with their in-laws... we're blessed in that my parents and John love and accept each other, and there's rarely an argument as to where to spend holidays.

But I would trade all of that for a chance to meet and get to know the people that raised my husband, that shaped him into the man he is today. The father that moved his family around Texas and finally to Georgia in an effort to provide for his family. The mother who nurtured her son's musical gifts that allowed him to become an accomplished musician and performer.

The other night I was watching my husband get ready for bed, going through all the adorable little rituals he does, and wondered if I would have recognized things about him that come from his parents. Did he inherit from one of them the serious ambition and talent that makes him a wonderful administrator and organizational leader? What about the charming personality and courtesy that makes new people feel at ease? From which does his musical talent come? or from both? Do his hands look like his dad's hands? Where does that great, bellowing laugh come from?

I thought about his mother. Is she watching ? Is she proud of him, the sweet, sensitive, caring, talented, successful man he turned out to be? Does she approve of the way he lives his life now? Is she happy that we have ended up together? Would she have liked the wife I've become? My cooking? The way I keep house (or don't keep house, as the case may be)? Am I taking good enough care of her little boy?

I want so much to know more about them both. I can pick up clues from John himself, and from his sisters... their sweetness and sensitivity, their courage and sense of humor, their intelligence ambition, their musical talents, their beauty. I've also heard snippets about them from John's grandmother, John's mom's mother, hanging in there at 96 with a head clear enough to share stories. But it's not enough.

I want John's mom and dad to be a part of our lives. To come over for holiday dinners. To hang out and get to know my parents. To tell me stories about the first six years of John's life, before his sisters came along. There aren't many folks left who can shares those stories with me. My knowledge of my husband will never be 100 percent complete because John Sr. and Patricia can't be here to fill in the blanks. I want to say thank you for being the people they were, so that my husband could become the man that he is.

My missing them became startlingly clear this past week, when John was suffering a cold. As I soothed Vick's Vapor Rub on his chest, he said, "I miss my Mom."

I know, baby. I miss her too.