The best thing that ever happened to me after immigrating to America many years ago was finding my very own American woman, a brown-eyed girl who I married and shared a life for more than 30 years.
Every Fourth of July we were together — except the last one, and now this one. I was proud to stand beside her. And today I honor her memory.
Her death will haunt me for the rest of my days. The sadness never diminishes, the void will never be filled. People tell me it’s time to move on. My mind won’t let me, it won’t let go; my heart won’t let me. So I don’t move on, but I do go on; I draw strength from her strength, courage from her courage, hope from her faith. In that sense she is still with me, today, and every day.
🎶 So hard to find my way, now that I’m on my own
My brown eyed girl, you my brown eyed girl
Do you remember when we used to sing
shalala la la la la la la la la te da 🎶
— Van Morrison, ‘Brown Eyed Girl’ (from the movie ‘Sleeping with the Enemy’)