Words matter to us. Those that are said, those that are not said. The precision of a phrase, the use of one word rather than another can make all the difference to how we feel about something or someone. Often they make even more difference to the way we feel about ourselves. Words can be a source of revelation or cause misunderstanding. They can give deep comfort and beauty and the lack of a word can cause just as great a pain as the wrong ones spoken. A thoughtless phrase thrown out in temper can stay with a child a lifetime, holding it back, just as the right words can inspire confidence. Yet most of the time we take them for granted and barely even notice them on a conscious level.
Yesterday a friend posted a story on Facebook. I have no idea whether or not it is true. I have no reason to doubt it. Some may say that these things don’t happen, but of course they do. It is often the case that we doubt that which falls outside our own range of experience. Just as we simply live and accept a normality others may see as incredible or unusual.
It has been suggested on many occasions that I should write my story. I who have lived it and have simply seen it as ‘life’. Apart from one or two events which were quite obviously outside of majority experience. And who would read it? My son’s story, that is different. Looking at the tales told by others, their adventures across the globe, their achievements, triumphs and encounters, my story, on the whole, seems pretty tame. Yet the suggestion keeps coming up. ‘What an interesting life’. Well, yes, I’d agree with that. But interesting doesn’t always mean happy or comfortable.
Yet when you think about it, the majority of people who write an autobiography after a long and rewarding life would probably say much the same. It is only in retrospect that their lives seem to take on new meaning and a glamour that we, the reader, find interesting. It is who they become, what they achieve in the realms of science or art, or simply in the art of living itself, that renders their story fascinating. It is their human legacy that makes their stories something special.
The tale I mentioned to begin with was what sparked this post. A legacy. Nothing world shaking, except to one woman. The simple story of a man who, after sending his wife a message and flowers for Valentine’s Day throughout their married life, arranged for them to continue to be sent after his death with a few words that mattered just to her. And it really doesn’t matter if this story is true or not. Somewhere it has happened, some man will have loved and thought to do this.
How can I be so sure? Because I have a suitcase upstairs full of words that mattered.
Many years ago when I first met my partner there were notes. Sometimes in the book I was reading, in the drawer with the cutlery, in the coffee canister… or sillier places like tucked in a shoe, or folded into the towel in the bathroom. I never knew where I would find them or when. I have opened my purse in a busy store and had a chain of paper hearts fall out, or a silly poem in my lunch when I got to work… or a letter in the post. Most were tiny little notes. It didn’t matter what they said as each one really said the same thing.
When we set up home together eventually, of course, there was no longer any need for the notes. He had left them there so that when we were apart, after the day or the evening was over, I would have that moment of finding the note and he the moments writing them and we would, for those few seconds, still be together. Sharing a home and a life we no longer needed them.
Yet they continued. Not every day, seldom in the same place twice… but always saying in one way or another the same thing.
He was diagnosed with an advanced cancer six months into our life together. We had no idea how long we would have and the treatment was radical. Amazingly, he did very well. The side effects were a nightmare but we laughed our way through them and the notes continued. In them he was able to write many things he felt he could not say. I still have them all.
He died in 1999, peacefully and quietly. We didn’t quite get to say goodbye, but I closed his eyes. Just the two of us. His little notes and letters became such a comfort in the days that followed, as you can imagine. I cherished the words and the love that had prompted them.
But he hadn’t finished.
I had, of course, to register his death and for that I needed his papers. He had known I would… and folded within them was a letter. I remember sitting on the dining room floor sobbing over it when I found it, trying to keep the tears from my eyes so that I could read while the heart in me ached. Oh so much.
He wrote of the boys and his love and pride in them. He wrote of memories of shared laughter, with an intimacy that brought him very close. He spoke of our life together and his hopes for my future, his faith and pride in me and what he believed I could do. And he said goodbye. He told me he loved me, one last time.
No, I am not writing this dry-eyed, those final words mattered.
I cannot imagine what it took to write that goodbye, the pain he felt or the ache in his heart. I do not know when he wrote it, how long it had waited. Only that when I needed him the most his words brought him to me and wrapped me in love.
He was far from perfect, certainly no saint. We had some right royal arguments. He was a stubborn, cussed bugger and a strict disciplinarian with the boys. I am certainly not idealising the dead. I never got flowers on Valentine’s Day. I was lucky if I got a card. You see, for him every day was a day to show he cared. From my slippers warming on the radiator on a cold day to the note in the bread bin, the coffee waiting when I got home or the song he said was mine, Presley’s ‘The Wonder of You’. Because, he said, the words were perfect. I can’t listen to that dry-eyed either, even after all these years.
Words matter. And they can matter for a lifetime. Sometimes far beyond the span of your own.
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
*crying* Beautiful, and words are sacred
LikeLike
They are… and it was xxx
LikeLike
Blessed ♥
LikeLike
Wow, sue this is an amazing story….
LikeLike
It was a beautiful one to live, Tania.
LikeLike
I really love ethe color of those roses! Beautiful!!!
LikeLike
They are a delight in my garden every summer. Only tiny, but so pretty.
LikeLike
Now that’s what I call romantic. My father was the same. He didn’t leave the notes. But he didn’t wait for Valentine’s Day to to something nice or special or loving for my mother. I am sorry your time together was cut short. But you are lucky to have been with someone who made every second count.
LikeLike
We never, ever took each other for granted.. possibly because we never knew which day would be the last 🙂
LikeLike
Yes, you should never take anything, or anyone, for granted. Yet often we do. Good for you.
LikeLike
Reblogged this on Starfish Way and commented:
It really is as important to write words as it is to speak them.
LikeLike
Thank you for sharing such a heart warming and touching story from yuor life. And yes I agree with all my heart and soul. Words matter. May today bring you peace, love and light.
Namaste
Benjamin
LikeLike
Stories are meant to be shared, I think, from heart to heart, else why else would we live them?
Be blessed this day, Benjamin.
Sue
LikeLike
Very romantic and a beautiful remembrance. Thanks for sharing it.
LikeLike
Very romantic and a beautiful remembrance.
LikeLike
Thank you.
LikeLike
Thanks for sharing. Namaste.
LikeLike
🙂 Namaste, Dianne.
LikeLike
This took my breath away.
LikeLike
He had that effect on me too 🙂 x
LikeLike
you have a sweet sense of humor.
LikeLike
🙂
LikeLike
My eyes weren’t dry by the end. A beautiful story, beautifully told. Thank you so much for sharing, and reminding me how much our words and smallest actions can mean in another person’s life
LikeLike
Thank you, Chris. Sometimes is just that, the smallest thing, that makes all the difference.
LikeLike
Thank you for sharing your touching story. Best wishes for tomorrow.
LikeLike
Thank you Alethea. It is tomorrow and guess what… we have snow. A fair bit of it and I may not even get out of the village. I will not be happy about that! I shall go and try and dig the car out… 😉
LikeLike
Your blog continues to amaze me. And yes those little notes are very special. I have a recent one saying ‘I got you a salmon steam meal.’ which basically means ‘I love you.’ doesn’t it… just beautiful. I was being all tough about my ex moving out until I read your post 😉
LikeLike
Thank you. I’m sorry to hear that you are going through that at present. I really am.But yes, that’s exactly what it means. x
LikeLike
I am lost for words Sue. You have been so blessed, then so torn apart, but never destroyed. Your courage is an inspiration. May you be blessed once more.
LikeLike
Even the tearing apart can be a blessing, whether it feels like it or not. It allows us to test ourselves against our perceived limits and gives us chance to grow. Like a surgeon with a scalpel, sometimes the drastic cuts are the greatest gifts in the long run.
LikeLike
I’ve not read this dry eyed either! 😦 What a lovely man you had in your life, and that is all anyone needs in a partner! 🙂
Always remembering to buy the right card on the right occasion, but never sincerely being there is the worst kind of relationship a person can have. I know that all too well, as unfortunately I ended up with a empty headed man who was never there, but never once forgot to buy me a card on the right days – no, I had to get out of that, my mind and emotions were slowly dying!
Words are everything, they create so much, and yet we often treat them as nothing at all. I wish more people could understand what you very clearly do, this world would be a very different place! 😀
LikeLike
I’ve been in those relationships too.. and we hope so much for them. But I’d rather have three words from the heart at the right time than the hearts and flowers and no real heart on the ‘right’ occasion.
LikeLike
words DO matter, whether they are used as a bard or a balm. I know what has transpired is so painful but you are so blessed. Your mo anam cara walked a spell with you and wrote in the pages of the chapters of your life, filling the whiteness with his words. You received a gift so many of us will probably never know. Inspiring once again, my dear Echo =)
LikeLike
There is no pain in memory, just a memory of pain that can now come with the smiles and something precious to hold in my heart.
LikeLike
amen sister. Tennyson was so right when he wrote: Tis better to have loved and lost. Your partner helped you to grow inside, to love deeper and stronger. =) Now get that Ani some peoples food, after all, she’s a real live girl! oh! and give her a good scritch behind the ears from her “Aunty Cao” =D
LikeLike
Duly scritched, and she’s shared my hot chocolate..yes, i know, but she likes it so I make extra 😉 x
LikeLike
Now see I started my KT early. When she is really, really good I give her chocolates. (shhh she doesn’t know that its actually carrots) She loves them! Makes her believe she is a “real live girl”
LikeLike
🙂 This thing is most definitely live… we’ve just had a long conversation about the ownership of the pizza in the fridge…
LikeLike
=D She got it didn’t she?
LikeLike
Most of it…
LikeLike
ah yes, been there. =) as well as the ever present, sitting on the haunches staring me down with the “you gonna eat that?” look.
LikeLike
The one where they suck the cheeks in and look as if they haven’t been fed for a week? Or the one that plainly sits there counting calories at you and looking at your hips with that long suffering.. ‘I’ll eat it for you, but only to be kind’ look…
LikeLike
hehe yes! KT’s look is always “I haven’t eaten in DAYYYYS”
LikeLike
Ani’s starts off that way and generally ends with’you know you are going to give in so you might as ell give in now’ 🙂
LikeLike
well, all I can say is we are well trained. =D
LikeLike
And we think we’re in charge… sighs… 😉
LikeLike
Dammit, you’ve made me cry.
But I understand how much little things, a few words, can be treasured. My partner and I do the same thing; not all the time, but sometimes I will leave a goodnight note under his pillow for him to find that night if I am away with work for a few days, or he will surprise me with some new paint brushes or a short, random text to cheer me up after an afternoon in the office. They mean a lot. Words, gestures, do matter.
LikeLike
Tears are not always a bad thing… especially when you know yourself how much those little things matter. And looking back, we could not have known at the start just how much they would. I left him notes too.. and he kept them also. Just bits of daftness.. but they really did matter.
LikeLike
That was beautiful – brought a lump to my throat and tears to my eyes. Bless you for sharing.
LikeLike
Thank you for sharing it with me.. words are always meant to be shared.
LikeLike
Sue, what a beautiful, touching, and loving post! I can’t imagine the depth of love and pain for either of you as that last letter was written and read… Hugs.
Blessings ~ Wendy
LikeLike
Morning Wendy. You know the cancer made the relationship very precious on many levels The ever present knowledge of the loss to come was a darkness against which all the joys sang… and there were many of them.
LikeLike
Moving post. I loved the roses.
Absence makes presence precious. Opposites complement. The world is full of them.
LikeLike
Thank you.
Absence is a certainty in this life, at some point or another. So all moments should be cherished and lived fully.. or so I believe.
LikeLike
What a beautiful testament to your love. I am so very, very sorry he died. Words trigger precious memories. I used to leave notes. Will try doing that as a practice now. Thank you for a glimpse into your love. That is what I write about, too. Nothing is more important.
LikeLike
I am just glad he lived and we had chance to love.
Words matter a great deal more than we think they do. I was given a few words yesterday that will, I think, remain amongst the most beautiful I have ever heard. I will not forget them.
Sometimes there are no words, but the love speaks for itself.
LikeLike
Yes, those are beautiful, true, true words.
Started leaving little notes again thanks to reading your piece. I think of your piece often and the love you shared because I am very blessed with a wonderful husband. You are an example to me for loving and for continuing one’s life if you lose the one you love so very deeply.
LikeLike
I felt broken when he died… yet I had my sons to raise and his hopes for me to realise. I hope he approves. I think he would be very proud of the boys.
LikeLike
I think he would be VERY proud of you!!
LikeLike
Thank you x
LikeLike
At the risk of sounding like a really dumb new wordpress user I just figured out that following a blog by email is how you actually get updates on people’s writing. 🙂 So good then, I have done that now so I can keep reading your amazing work. Thank you for sharing your talent with all of us.
LikeLike
Thank you, Ionia! Beautiful name, by the way. That really is a lovely thing to say.
LikeLike
What an amazing article you’ve written! I love how you wrote that you were cared for every day and there was no need to wait for Valentines day to show it. We must appreciate all that we have all the time!
LikeLike
Thank you. Between that and what happened with my son I don’t think any of us take a second for granted any more. 🙂
LikeLike
My dear you are a strong woman. Tears spatter the keyboard, but I must tell you how deeply I felt for you. Virginia
LikeLike
Thank you.. the tears are long past now… except once in a while and smiling.
LikeLike
I admire your carrying on with your life and your advances towards higher things. There is nothing I fear more than the loss of my husband.
LikeLike
I can understand that, but given his illness at the time, it was time. What we had shared was precious.
LikeLike
Your post is breathtaking. Thank you for sharing it, and thank you for reminding me of why I am so lucky to have my partner. He has left me so many notes in our six years together that I have bags of them saved–and I cherish every single one.
LikeLike
Now you know why you save them 🙂
LikeLike
I once wrote a poem called “The power of words”. Thought you might like to see it: Kind regards.
What magic lies in simple words,
What music hides within;
How gently on the ear doth fall
The cadences that sing.
For words have life and nascent power
To live beyond mans’ mortal hour;
They rule the mind and sway the heart
Transfiguring life by their potent art.
Like ripened grapes full crescive with wine,
They burst from their skins with nectar divine;
Or laden with filth and heavy with lies,
They stealthily poison until the soul dies.
But neither words nor pen alone,
Can strike the deep responsive tone;
For ‘tis the spirit behind the quill
Which wields the sceptre at it’s will.
Take care, therefore, and ponder well
The words you choose to write,
For they, perchance, may rise like ghosts
And ruthlessly indict.
LikeLike
It is a beautiful piece. True also, it is the response of the heart to the word that gives it power and meaning and allows it to maim or heal. Thank you.
LikeLike
Such a moving story – yours, I mean. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing it.
LikeLike
Thank you, Pete. It has never been a bland life… always vivid and full of wonder, even in the dark times.
LikeLike
I agree. Words do matter. I tried to get my Grandfather to tell his story into a recorder. He did great things. He didn’t. If we don’t write words down to remember the good people in a life. They will be forgotten. Thank you for the blog with good wisdom.
LikeLike
Thank you, John. I know.. my great grandparents were very much part of my life, yet all I have of their stories are what i remember them sharing with me as a child.It is shame to have missed such an opportunity.
LikeLike
Words well used.
LikeLike
Yes.
LikeLike
Wow. Words are indeed powerful. They can both hurt and heal. Thanks for sharing.
LikeLike
Thank you. Sometimes the smallest words matter the most
LikeLike
Reblogged this on natalieelliston and commented:
I have always felt the words we choose to say, the ones we choose to withhold says more about us than the words themselves
LikeLike
Pingback: Daily Echo
Reblogged this on Barrow Blogs: and commented:
I cannot express what the sadness and the joy in this post made me feel – I just know that I am weeping.
LikeLike
I related to this so very much. While, my husband wasn’t quite so prolific, I found notes he had written me that I hadn’t seen before he died. Some in plain view if I had only looked for them. He also had everyday kindness as his preferred love language. I had almost 13 years with him. It’s been 17 years since he died. But reading this, it brought up all those moments of loving, losing, and remembering. Like opening a hope chest and letting the contents take you back to all the memories stored therein.
LikeLiked by 1 person
😉
LikeLike
Lovely to read Sue’s wise words, as always. ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
😉
LikeLike
Envious of that kind of love, but Sue’s words certainly do live on beyond her life. Thank you for sharing this.
LikeLiked by 1 person
😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a beautiful story. Yes, words…
LikeLike
Reblogged this on The Journey and commented:
A beautiful blog about why the words we write and say matter
LikeLike