Time is fleeting. When we lose someone we never imagined losing—so suddenly—it’s hard to wrap our brain around it. Sunday will be three months. Ninety-two days. Ninety-two nights of sleeping alone. Only ninety-two days… yet it feels like one thousand and ninety-two. It’s been so long since I’ve seen my wonderful husband’s face.
Over these ninety-two days, I’ve done what most people do—reflect. I’ve remembered the good times, the hard times, and tried to hold onto all the little moments in between. I remember the big things, the milestones, the dates that marked our story.
Like today. The very first day we were together. It was at my younger brother’s wedding.
11,963 days. That’s how long this amazing man was my soulmate here on this earth. October 17, 1992 – July 19, 2025.
I knew from the moment we kissed—he was the one. You just know. All in God’s perfect timing. 😘💞
Ricky and I weren’t one of those “love at first sight, meet, fall in love, and get married” couples. Nope. We were friends first—good friends—who dated other people within our little “friend group” before it finally became our time. God had a plan, even when we didn’t see it yet.
As I look back, I’m reminded that every day truly is a gift. God weaves our stories with purpose, and even when the chapters change in ways we never expected, His love remains steady. I’m so thankful for every single one of those 11,963 days—each laugh, each tear, each simple, beautiful moment.
Cherish the time you’re given, love deeply, and trust God’s timing… because it’s always perfect.
