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Your Autobiographies
Jeanne Isaacman's Autobiography (submitted 4/28/06)
I met him when I was 19 years old, a slender long-legged girl looking for the love of her life. He was 20, skinny with lots of black wavy hair and a prominent adam's apple. He was the one I was looking for - the love of my life. For him I was this wonderful creature to be helped up on a pedestal and worshipped 'til death did us part.
We married a year and a half later and 10 months after that brought forth the first of our 3 children. The years went by and we prospered together. He loved me endlessly, passionately, never called me by name, always "honey" or "dear".
The kids obliged and grew up to be bright, energetic high achievers. They got married - some of them more than once. They gave us presents of soul-satisfying, apple-cheeked grandchildren who, in turn, grew to be beautiful, bright, energetic high achievers, all 6 of them.
We were happy, the love of my life and I. He continued to worship me and I continued to bask in the glow of it and loved him back. He lost all his black wavy hair and grew a paunch. My 18" waist accumulated another 10" of flesh.
We traveled the world together, lived an enviable life full of friends, family and adventures. We sailed through canals, flew over mountains, rode camels in Egypt, elephants in Thailand. And he loved me still & I the same for him - for over 55 years.
But then, this January of the saddest Winter of all, it came to an end for the love of my life and me. Death did us part. And in my heart is this gaping hole. Fifty-five years wasn't long enough.