Sunday, July 14, 2013


Today marks what would have been my late wife's 65th birthday.
Pam would have hated that, turning 65 (!). According to her, she steadfastly never aged past 39.

Anyone who has followed this blog or my Facebook page or read any of my interviews, knows that I comment often on Pam. I wonder sometimes if readers find this tiring and see me as some kind of pathetic, obsessive person who can't get past losing her. In a sense, I guess that's true --- I think about her daily and miss her terribly. But I've gone on with my life well enough, thank you. I have persevered. Partly because that's the way I'm made, partly because that's how Pam would have wanted it.
In the final analysis, I don't care what others may think. Not in this regard. As a writer who knows how to use words and has the outlets to do so, it is altogether fitting and proper --- maybe even obligatory --- for me to utilize these capabilities, if I wish, to carry on Pam's memory and to share my feelings about the great love of my life. Anyone not interested in hearing about her or my feelings for her is free not to read what I have to say.

This year, to commemorate her birthday, I want to share the words to a simple, sad, sweet song (by Jud Strunk) that heard for the first time a while back on the radio. I tracked down the lyrics and memorized them. I think they do a good job of capturing the kind of love and devotion that I felt/feel for Pam:

He remembers the first time he saw her

He remembers the first thing she said;
He remembers the first time he saw her
And the night that she came to his bed.

He remembers her sweet way of saying
"Honey, has something gone wrong?"
He remembers the love and the teasin'
And the reason he wrote her this song.

"I'll give you a daisy a day, dear
I'll give you a daisy a day;
I'll love you until the rivers run still
And the four winds we know blow away."

They would go for a walk in the evening
For years I would watch them go by;
And their love that was more
than the clothes that they wore
Could be seen in the gleam of their eyes.

As a kid they would take me for candy
How I loved to go tagging along;
We'd hold hands as we walked to the corner
And the old man would sing her his song.

"I'll give you a daisy a day, dear
I'll give you a daisy a day;
I'll love you until the rivers run still
And the four winds we know blow away."

Now he walks down the street in the evening
And he stops by the old candy store;
And I somehow believe he's believin'
He's still holding her hand like before.

He can feel all her love walking with him
And he smiles at the things she might say;
Then the old man walks up to the hilltop
And he gives her a daisy a day.

It's always awkward this time of year to think in terms of the word "happy" – as in Happy Birthday. Yet the occasion of Pam's birthday is a happy time. For if she'd never been born, you see, then I never would have been blessed with having her in my life for forty-plus years …
So happy birthday, babe. I love you.


Unknown said...

A fine tribute and remembrance.

Cheryl Pierson said...

Wayne, she was a beautiful woman! My mom used to love that song, A DAISY A DAY. I found the sheet music and learned to play it on the piano. It sure brought back memories when I saw it in your post. Lovely remembrance.

Thomas Pluck said...

Wayne, don't ever think your love is anything but strength showing its true face. Your honesty is rare and appreciated, it takes a real man to speak from the place you so willingly share.

wayne d. dundee said...

Thanks for the supportive comments, everyone. I really appreciate it.
Cheryl, "Daisy" is such a simple but powerful tune, isn't it? It must have pleased your mom greatly when you were able to play it for hr.
Thomas, I wish you could have known Pam. If you had, you'd see clearly where a big part of my strength came from. She was small and dainty and to many it probably looked like she was lost in my shadow ... Truth is, I was leaning on her much of the time.

Michael A. Black said...

Nice commentary, brother. Stay strong.