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Whoa, the last month. Whoa to the day my dad died and I skipped out on a marriage letter because I needed time cuddled up close to your warm self on the cold nights of winter's depths. Whoa to the endless pairs of flannel pajamas we used as a balm for sad souls. Whoa to the stock in Kleenex and Nyquil and family days we've managed to run through over the last month.
You are the whoa to my wondrous life. A whoa I'm so thankful to call my very own.
Whoa to standing in my periphery during the funeral. We stared at one another with tears in our eyes and a casket in our midst. We've kept our talk about dying careful because we keep feeling the same tension: one day we will be one without the other. I do not relish those days because you are the better half of my life. I can't imagine evenings without your wise smile, weekends without your morning slowness, and meals without your wild appetite.
You are the whoa to top off my wondrous life. A whoa I'm so undeserving to call my very own.
Whoa to watching you stand tight beside my little brother during his wedding. Your pride as your carried the rings and that bible down was only outdone by the bow ties you spent nights mastering. And your speech, what a dream it was to watch the man I love toast the man I grew beside. The way you two love each other is almost as special to me as the love we share. You were the best man to Bub and you are the best man to me.
You are the whoa to amidst my wondrous life. A whoa I'm so excited to call my very own.
Whoa to sitting front and center during the memorial service. You asked for my eulogy over and over and over again. You patiently encouraged me through the tears and shared your confidence in my words. You listened carefully, added bits kindly, and told me it was perfect more times than I deserved to hear. Then the day came and you sat with a kind, encouraging smile in your eyes despite the heartbreak we were all feeling.
You are the whoa in my wondrous life. A whoa I'm so blessed to call my very own.
You are the twinkle in my dullest of days,