I am not very good at maths but I think it is 44 years since I first met Anthony and this is Chapter 44 of the book I have been trying to write versions of for years – a bittersweet coincidence.
There was so much pain in our relationship, from the very beginning until Anthony’s death: our 23-year age difference; my parents’ alarm; his younger brother’s extraordinary unhappiness for us; Anthony’s many diseases; etcetera.
But underlying all of these challenges, which are common to so many of us, was, for me, a rare joy, an exuberant love, and a fantastic sense of hope. Yes, Anthony died, okay, and that is a fact.
I still have the absolute joy of knowing him, loving him, laughing with him, delighting in our little Ming, dancing in the living room, polishing the furniture with old-fashioned wax, holding his hand before he died.
44 years of incredible memories.
JOY
jmgoyder 
and that is everything
It’s a strange thing for me to say, but I believe many of your readers must be envious of you. The three dimensional love you and Anthony experienced is rare. Yes. The loss therefore is enormous. But even that in enviable perhaps.
So very pleased that you remember the joy of your relationship.
Many great moments and years