When I was a senior in high school, I met Murl Anderson, who was the principal at my high school in Honolulu. At the time (1972), he had a beautiful wife (Roselea) and two sons, Randy and Jim, who were about my age. Murl had a distinguished career as an educator with stops in Honolulu, HI; Maple Valley, WA; Silverton, Oregon; and Roseburg, OR. We have kept in touch along the way and over the years he has become a good friend and great mentor. He gave me some crucial advice a few years ago that helped bring light and hope to a very dark time in my life.

When Murl finally retired in the mid ’90s, he took Roselea back to his hometown of John Day, Oregon. Murl kept busy with community activities and carpentry. They celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary there in 1998. My wife Holly (also a high school classmate) and I made the four-hour drive from Portland to visit them in 1999 and found a very happy and content couple. But a short time later, Roselea began to have a series of health problems. In 2002, they were so serious that Murl moved Roselea to Tacoma, WA, where they could have access to better medical facilities and be closer to his son, Jim.

Roselea’s condition worsened and in February 2003 she finally passed away with Murl by her side. Two months later, Holly and I went to visit him in Tacoma. I never saw a more broken man. His voice cracked with emotion as he struggled to keep his composition together. He brought several cards that Roselea had written to him over the years. They were special notes that were not motivated by an occasion, but by the daily loving thoughts of a devoted and devoted wife. A note was signed, “Just because I love you. Your Roselea.” He wept openly as he showed us the letters and talked about how quickly their 55 years together had gone by. He said that he could hardly sleep or eat and wondered how he could right a ship that was rocking so much.

It was about to get worse. A year later, her eldest son, Randy, passed away after a long battle with cancer. He was just 53 years old. Murl had been attending a grievance group and was beginning to see the light again when Randy passed away. He fought again, but he fought his way back and was determined not to live the rest of his life in sadness and depression. Later that summer, he decided to attend the Roselea class of 60 reunion at John Day. Murl knew everyone in the class from Roselea (1944) and was looking forward to a return trip to John Day.

At the meeting, she ran into one of Roselea’s best friends, Fay, who had been widowed several years before. Murl knew her husband well and together they helped comfort each other through the greatest loss of their lives. They kept in constant contact after the reunion and a romance developed. They married a year later and now live in Silverton, Oregon. I went to visit Murl and Fay in 2006 and was surprised to see a very different Murl Anderson. He was the exact opposite of the man I had seen three years before in Tacoma. He seemed happy, content and prosperous. I guess there really is “life after death”.

The crucial piece of advice you gave me?

In October 2004, I was by Holly’s side when she died of pancreatic cancer and watched her take her last breath. For months, every time I thought of her, the only vision that came to me was the blink of her eyes for the last time. It was disturbing. I called Murl for advice since he had the same experience with Roselea. He said: “When you think of Holly, think of the fun and happiness they had together. Don’t dwell on her death, she celebrates her life.”

Those words opened the clouds of despair and her example showed me that it was possible to love again no matter how great your loss. Holly had been the “love of my life” and we had been in each other’s lives for 40 years. Her death will always be the greatest loss of my life. But the memories of Holly that I remember now are filled with the happy times we spent together and the great life we ​​had as a couple. And the example that Murl Anderson showed me made me believe that I can still have a happy and fulfilling life and that my heart can still love again.