The word "husband" has a linguistic association with the language of my gardener father, Herman Hays. The associated word, "husbandry", denotes "management of domestic affairs, frugality, farming". A "good husband" is "a good steward of all entrusted to him", which includes wife and children. Don't you think today's generations should be made aware of this?

In 1998, Esther and I celebrated our 50nd Wedding Anniversary. And our two loving sons, Tim and Chris, arranged a luncheon with relatives and friends.

This was my second marriage. My first was a 2-year wartime marriage, which broke up as so many of these wartime marriages did. My first wife tried to turn me into "the man who got away", and insisted on a divorce three days after my discharge.

My greatest boast is that "Esther chose me". Wait! Before some of you gals lambaste (for gravy?) my "ego", hear me out.

Besides my broken marriage, I'd been a homeless veteran, living on the streets of New York. My discharge papers disappeared in a stolen briefcase, so I couldn't apply for many veterans benefits under the "G. I. Bill". Only my clerical skills seemed to find employment, at $25 a week. Who was I -- to be chosen?

I'll never forget the moment I realized that Esther had chosen me. In the Literacy Office (where we both worked), I sensed that some one was staring at me from behind. Turning around, I saw what seemed to be an adoring look, such as I'd never before received. Who was I -- to be looked at in this fashion. But her Love healed me and gave me the nerve (later on) to tell her of my Love. And -- the minute I blurted it out -- Esther immediately started talking about wedding plans. She handled everything, including planning the Honeymoon trip.

Esther chose me and turned my life around. Gave me a new life. Esther walked with a cane when I first met her -- her left leg paralyzed from polio in infancy. As I note in "Nurse John", Esther broke that leg 10 times, and the "good right one" 3 times. Had two mastectomies, and a carpal tunnel syndrome operation.

She was in a wheelchair for 35 years. Bedridden the last two years of her life. Her left arm gradually deteriorated (apparently from cervical stenosis: narrowing of spinal canal), so she could not swing into a wheelchair but must pull herself (with right arm) backwards on a slding board into the wheelchair, when she had to make a trip. Otherwise, confined to bed and bedpans.

But I've had no other life without her, as I realized from her many absences in the hospital. And, as I say in my Eulogy fo her, she taught me how to live and I promised to continue the way she taught me if I lost her. I grieve for her every waking moment. But my daily work of building an ONLINE MEMORIAL to her -- of which, this is a part -- keeps me going each day. I've passed from a wonderful life WITH Esther to a life FOR her.

As noted elsewhere, I was christened "Herman Juvenis Hays", for my father, but was known in my childhood and youth as "Sonny", a name my paternal grandmother gave me. I changed my middle name to "John" when I entered high school, but kept the first name for my father's sake.

When kids learned of my first name, they called me "Her Man" -- "He's her man!".

And I am, or try to be.