I met my late wife at work on the first day. We sat next to each other in new hire training; it was March 18th. It wasn't love at first sight, although I did admire her tush in those Roper jeans. We started as friends and got along splendidly. We were both out of bad relationships. She was also nine years younger than me. We were both in challenging living situations and decided to be roommates. That led to getting to know her even more and a first kiss. Things progressed from there. We moved into a house as a couple and enjoyed gardening together, even in the hot Oklahoma heat. One day, we were building a garden on the side of the house, and it was hot outside like Oklahoma is in near summer. We were both heavy in sweat and hard at work. Planting plants and making our house a home. I looked over at her and saw her dirty blonde hair stuck to her heavily perspired face, and her dirty hands in the amended soil. She was working as hard as me and loving it. I couldn't help but smile at her. She looked up with those big baby blue eyes and smiled the biggest smile back. I knew in that moment, four years after we'd met, that I loved her. I did not say it, but I felt it. She had previously told me repeatedly that she loved me, and I had never said it back. Always feeling like I was leaving her hanging, but she never complained. That night I told her as we sat outside and her smile and her eyes told me I was right. I traveled a lot for work then and was on a Monday morning flight. I was headed to Vegas to train a leadership course as per my usual week. Another week, in another city, she never complained once about my travel. She was proud of me for my professional growth. I went that week and bought an engagement ring. When I got home, I took her out into the handcrafted gardens we had built with love, dropped to one knee, and asked her to be my Bride. Of course, those baby blues lit up, and she said Yes. We had a lot next door to us, a little too small for a house, so it sat empty. It was vacant, and I ended up mowing it all the time. I found the owner and bought the lot cheap, just for us to garden. She told me of a book she loved as a child called "The Secret Garden." I decided to build her that garden or as close to it as possible. I tried to do it alone (she wouldn't let me do it alone; we worked side by side); the privet hedge lines from saplings and the rose bushes varied in color, but they were there. Flowers were plenty, a pergola and a gate with a sign I made in the garage wood shop. "Jeannette's Secret Garden". We got married in that garden within a couple of years. It was beautiful. We did it ourselves. (Of course, Mom made our wedding cake), but the rest was us. As was everything with us. It was always "Us". Us against the world, every problem, challenge, success, and victory. It was us. Communication was the cornerstone of our relationship. We decided early in our relationship to be 100% honest with each other. We even set aside time at our Friday dinner to check our relationship. Most Fridays, there was nothing to "check," but we still made time for a judgment-free conversation. In 20 years we had three fights, where we raised our voices at.each other. One was her fault, one mine and well the other was still a point of contention. I miss her something fierce. She passed this last December from Covid, and I haven't planted since. I mow and maintain. Maybe someday I'll feel like planting again, maybe not. I know I miss her; I miss us. Sorry, this is so long; I like our story.