The weeds of cancer have overtaken the garden of my wife's bone marrow. We have fought this ugly and deceitful disease with every available therapy and after more than four years this emperor of all maladies is just days away from claiming one more unique and beautiful person. Linda is mostly quiet now as she looks out over the lake we call home. Her eyes still dance just as they did when we met almost fifty years ago. I think I'll miss that the most.