Number 55

Dear Rebecca,

Next Tuesday, September 3rd, will be the 25th anniversary of our marriage. Of course, you're not here for us to celebrate together, but I don't hold that against you. You would be here if you could.

I miss you, but I think you probably already know that. I think about you everyday, and often wonder what you think of everything that's happened over the last 3 1/2 years. When you first went away it was hard even to breathe. I would go from hour to hour wondering what was next; and thinking about the next day, let alone the future, felt like a joke being played on me by the cosmos.

I did my best to be there for the girls, but that was so hard when I was barely there for myself. You'll have to ask them yourself how I did. They're far too kind and loving to actually tell me the truth. It feels as though I've let them down in so many situations that you would have handled with ease. I relied on your wisdom and guidance as often as possible. Thankfully, you had enough time with Emma and Grace to instill in them your resiliency and heart so that they were able to overcome my fumbling attempts to get things right.

You would be so proud of them. They both fill my heart with a love beyond measure (as I am sure they would yours). They are both spreading their wings and learning to fly without any nest in sight. I see you in them constantly. In each of their faces, and in each of their souls. They are our greatest legacy.

I struggled with moving on for a long while. At first it seemed like betrayal; that somehow I was being disloyal just for being here. Slowly, though, I realized that I had no choice but to move forward. The vicissitudes of time demanded it. The decision that left me with was deciding what moving forward was going to look like. Once again, I turned to you for guidance; and, once again, you showed me the way.

I started making decisions about my future, and I always considered what your point of view might have been. At first it was easy. When I made the decision to start getting regular exercise, I could almost hear you say, "Finally!"( Later, I amended that rather caustic response to a more benign "Good for you, Honey.") But when I met Cindy, and then later, when I made the decision to transition, I struggled mightily with thoughts that I was betraying you and our love for one another.

In the end it was simple: You loved me. In that moment, I realized that you wanted for my life to be happy and peaceful. If that meant being with Cindy and becoming a woman, so be it. That realization made all the difference. It's an amazing thing to come to the realization that our love for each other didn't die on February 14, 2016. It is still alive, perhaps a little tarnished and dented after 25 years, but what things aren't after that much time. It still has meaning. It still has power. It still means everything to me.

My life is good now. In Cindy, I have a person I love. My transition has filled me with a tranquility and peace of mind that I never had before. There have been many other positive changes in my life as well - I'm sure you would approve of the kitchen and our bedroom! (I'm less sure what your opinion of Max the Wonder Dog would be.) What hasn't changed is the love the two of us felt for one another as we said our vows in front of our family and friends all the way back on September 3, 1994. Oh, how beautiful you were that day!

I love you forever.