I have music on a loop that I listen to in the car. There is one song that never fails to reduce me to tears: Ben Folds, The Luckiest.
I don't often feel lucky.
(I mean, who here really feels that luck has been shining on them?)
Sudden death really doesn't count in the "lucky" stakes.
In fact, in the three years leading up to the accident, we lost both Greg's parents to the most hideous of cancers. This left he and is siblings at odds over the will with Greg the person in the middle trying to make everyone happy, whilst making himself miserable in the process.
...and he'd just managed to get everyone to a shaky agreement, but was dead within months.
"Lucky" was not a description I would have used to describe our lives.
Until I started to think about it.
Because Greg and I, we were The Luckiest.
Not many people get to marry the love of their lives.
Many never even get to meet them.
But we did both.
Inseparable from the moment we met and fell in love.
We had a love that was real and solid.
We finished each other's sentences and could tell what the other person was thinking with a look.
We laughed at the same things and we cried at the same things.
...and what we had (still have) was so rare and beautiful, that we really were among The Luckiest people on the planet.