We each have a love story that is all our
own, and somehow The Grand Lover weaves our stories into His eternal
tapestry. As varied and treasured as
each of our love stories are, they vibrantly blend into His one masterpiece
leaving the significance of our details faded and blurred.
Jeff Harter gave me countless significant
details. That man completed me in so many ways. I’ve never known love so
complete. He proved to me that love never fails. When he was ripped away, I felt completely annihilated. In an instant I went from what felt like
having it all to having nothing. I cried like I never knew it was possible.
After several months, I was amazed at the amount of tears I was still
producing. They seemed they would never
end. During this time I read about other women (dating back 3,000 years) who
saved their tears in tear bottles.
Tear bottles were commonly used in ancient
Roman times – mourners would fill glass bottles with their tears and leave them
in the tombs as a symbol of respect for the deceased. They were also used to
show the importance of the deceased – the most important people had the most
filled bottles. They were also used as a way to gauge the mourning period; when
all the tears were evaporated from the bottle, the mourning period was over.
I have a tear bottle, and if its reasons hold
true, Jeff Harter must be the 2nd most important man that ever
walked the earth, and my mourning period is long from over. I don’t think its
reasons hold true, but I do think it’s a beautiful symbol of significance for
our pain that will one day evaporate in His presence.
Part of my love story involves 3 weddings,
all within one week, and all to the same man. On April 19th, 2009, I
married Jeff Harter on the beach in Honduras. It was exquisite. On April 19th,
2014, I went out to the middle of the desert with my tear bottle and a mini urn
of my husband’s ashes. Nothing about this is right…yet, love never fails.
I sat on a sheet amongst the desolate cacti
and thorn-filled landscape, and looked through the various photo books we’d
made together…I reread our mission statement…I reread a portion of his letters
to me – I was engulfed in this fairytale of a romance about 2 lives that became
1 and changed the world – and I felt indescribably loved because that woman was
me. And then in an instant he was ripped
away. It all ended…or did it?
My husband was planning on taking me to the
Waldorf Astoria in New York City so we could dance the tango in their Grand
Ballroom. I felt like I was supposed to
spend our 5 year wedding anniversary doing just that, and the anniversaries of
our other 2 weddings seemed to be the perfect time.
He had painted it so real in my mind that I
had to move forward with this plan. Every time I even thought about following
through with it, my eyes would fill with tears, and the raw pain of not being
able to feel his touch was as real as the tears in my eyes. Regardless of its
difficulty or nonsense, I had to do it.
I had to swirl around the floor of the Grand Ballroom as if Jeff Harter
was promenading me around. So off I went to NYC to explore the unknown and
rekindle the remnant of a shattered dream.
I was met with a hustling and bustling city
that embraced me and treated me well. It was like the city knew it was the 5th
anniversary of my 2nd wedding, April 24th. Oddly enough, in a city packed with people, I
felt special & oh-so-very loved. Time flew, and after what felt like a
blink it was time to check into the Waldorf Astoria. The receptionist greeted
me and asked if my reservation was correct. I shamelessly told her it was, and
confessed to that simple room being a
stretch for me. She looked me in the eyes, then went back to typing on her
keyboard. She then looked at me again, and said, “Well, Mrs. Harter, if you’ll
accept, we would like to put you in a luxury room in our private Towers.” There I went up to the 38th floor
to a place more opulent than I’ve ever seen.
My rekindling of the remnant of a shattered dream was making me feel
like I was living a remarkable dream.
That night, the voice in my head, that I
shouldn’t listen to, kept trying to tell me to back out of that stupid and
crazy plan I had because if I didn’t, I’d look like a fool. I reasoned though that there was no way I
could back out since I’d come this far. It was nearing midnight, so it was time for me
to don the black gown I packed and make my best attempt at getting into the
ballroom. There was something magical
about it all. I put the mini urn in my hands and left the Tower.
There stood the one man with the power to get
me inside the Grand Ballroom. I took a deep breath while saying a prayer, and
went for it. “Excuse me Sir, may I please be permitted into the Grand Ballroom
for just a few minutes?” He came back with a resistance that my heart wasn’t
interested in entertaining. So I asked again, “Please Sir, just for a few
minutes,” and he came back with the same, “No, it’s not allowed….” It couldn’t
end here, it just couldn’t. So I decided
to share a little of my story. “I understand, Sir. I flew across the country
for this very moment. You see, it’s my wedding anniversary (and he looked to
the right and left for my husband) and my husband has gone Home (as I pointed
upward to Heaven with one hand and extended my other hand with the mini urn in
it about an inch or so). You see, he was going to take me here so he could
promenade me around your Grand Ballroom. I was,” and he interrupted me and
said, “You most certainly may have time in the Grand Ballroom, and I will
escort you there.” He ushered me in and left me with these words: “You take all
the time you need, it’s all yours.” As I
walked into the Grand Ballroom my eyes saw past its tears and were met with
chandeliers, balconies, gold, and grandeur – and I felt love surrounding me in
an undeniable way. It was real. Love never fails. I ran up to one of the
balconies and spun around in sheer delight. Mine, all mine to make this special
memory.
I went back downstairs to the ballroom floor,
and in my mind’s eye I saw my husband asking me for a dance. I broke down, but
it wasn’t because of sadness. It was because a certain Hope was filling me, and
a resounding validation that love remains.
I glided around the ballroom floor, spinning, and twirling, and simply enjoying
The Dance. As much as my heart was
breaking in having this moment with my husband’s physical absence, it was full
in knowing that Jeff Harter brought me to that very moment.
It was well into April 26th, the
anniversary of our 3rd wedding ceremony. There couldn’t have been a
better ending to celebrating 5 years with my extraordinary husband. I promenaded around the ballroom floor one
last time trying to soak in the surreal-ness of it all, and as I finished, I
found myself thanking God for the fact that love
remains. I ended this magical night
realizing that my love story didn’t begin when Jeff Harter entered my life – it
began the day God took hold of my heart, and it didn’t end when Jeff Harter
went Home – it will never end because . . . love
remains.
It’s not the people, it’s not the events,
it’s not the successes, it’s not the memories…it’s only love that remains.
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