Elizabeth was stunningly beautiful, made more beautiful by the fact she had no ego. She put everyone else first. She was down to earth and made everyone feel accepted and important. She would laugh with you and never made you feel less than who you felt to be, like you were the only person in a crowded room. She was musically talented, a singer and worship leader. I never heard her ever sing out of tune. Never. She was a proud and independent woman, patient and strong. She was a preschool teacher, watching carefully over 12 two-year-olds. At family gatherings, she would be on the floor playing card games or putting puzzles together with my nieces and nephews. She was not just someone I respected but someone who inspired me to be a better man, and in turn, inspired us to be better towards each other and to love each other unconditionally.
We didn’t have much money to spend, so we would often just hop in my truck early on a Sunday morning and head out, get our favorite coffee, pick a direction and drive until it was time to return home. We got to explore new places together and experience them for the first time. It was exciting. We traversed the rolling hills of the wine country, cruised the California coast and visited the small towns along the way. Our day drives turned into weekend trips to different parts of the state, once making it all the way to Oregon, a new frontier for us to explore. We would listen to music, talk about our future, about opening up a bacon and coffee shop, and about leaving a legacy for a family that we would start. One of our favorite shows was “Aerial America”, a TV show that featured the history and landscape of each state in the U.S., all shot from the air. We would talk about how when we retired we would buy an RV and see all the national parks and historical sites that were featured on that show.
I knew I wanted this woman to be my wife and on one of those weekend trips, on a sunny day in October on a mountain peak, amongst purple wildflowers and butterflies, overlooking an ice blue lake, I asked her to spend the rest of her life with me.
