Unless you’ve been there, I do not think you can understand the loss of a spouse — especially if your spouse is one you have so much in common with, are passionate about and would die for if the opportunity were there.

On Jan. 31, 2009, I lost my spouse and my soulmate, Landry Gray. We only had five years together.

We met in 2004, after I had left an abusive marriage and tried to move on with getting an education and raising two boys by myself. I had entered into a couple of relationships that were not healthy and, finally, I “found” myself. I learned that you have to make yourself happy and that you have to choose not to be a victim or you will never better yourself or do what is in the best interest of your children.

That is about the time when I met Landry. He was the single parent of a beautiful son. We just clicked. We were colleagues in a high school where we both taught in the Exceptional Children’s Department and he taught karate to my sons at Charles June Karate Institute.

He was patient and kind, was an amazing father, and had a good relationship with and respected his ex-wife. He believed in doing what was in the best interest of children even if it meant forgiving people in your past, so that raising a child could be maintained in a peaceful manner. He also believed in the healthy body, mind and spirit, as he was a black belt in karate and in awesome shape — even though he was 13 years older than me and nearing 50 years old. Lastly, he loved the Lord and had the same giving spirit I did, trying to help others in need, especially when they least expected it.

We became engaged after dating for about six months. Our blended family just worked, and not a day went by when we took each other for granted. Our lives were perfect. Landry and I spent all of our time with each other, hardly going anywhere without the other and loving every minute of it, enjoying the fact that we would spend the next 50 years or more together and have the same loving relationship his mom and dad still have after 60 years of marriage.

We were planning on having a child together, overcoming the obstacle of me being infertile. We focused on in-vetro and failed the first four times.I was hesitant to try again, but Landry told me that God had spoken to him about it and that we would have a son.

Then, while we were in the fifth trial of in-vetro and in the process of building our dream house, Landry called me from our home site — which we called “The Love Shack” — and cried into the phone. I asked him what was wrong, startled that this strong man was crying. He told me he was scared and to come and get him. He had a headache that was the worst kind of pain he could imagine. I had to pick him up off the ground when I got there.

That day in April 2007 — a Friday the 13th — my husband, my soulmate, the love of my life was diagnosed with the worst kind of brain tumor possible. That was the day I began grieving, because I was told he would die within two years.

In two days, he had surgery. Two weeks later, we learned that we were going to have a baby.

I took on the role of wife, husband, mom and caretaker, never for a moment thinking it was too much for me to handle. However, I felt lonely, because I didn’t want to burden Landry with my grief or show him I was weak in believing what was inevitable — that this awful cancer would kill him. As the cancer took over, I watched for good and bad days. Landry’s strength and determination not to quit was amazing and made me proud to be married to such a wonderful man.

I would start every morning asking him how he was feeling, then hug him and celebrate, even if we had a few hours of him feeling good. But then our bedroom and bathroom became a grieving, crying and sick area. A couple of times, Landry came and pulled me out of the closet where I closed myself away, embarrassed that I was being weak, begging God to please spare him. I chose not to share his suffering with anyone while he was sick because I wanted to preserve his manhood. Behind the door of our bedroom, Landry suffered in a way that haunts me. Everyday was a struggle with not knowing what side effect would occur.

When Landry passed away, I felt relieved for him to be out of pain but scared about my future and the future of our boys. Our son Micah is such a precious gift and so much like Landry. I have looked into his eyes on many days and see Landry looking back at me. The boys are the reason I have to be strong. Landry would not have it any other way.

Right after his death, I felt more alone than ever, realizing that depression was setting in quickly and that a quick return to work was what was best for me. Yet, I came home for weeks and yelled at God to please not leave me alone in this world and to let Landry communicate with me in some way. I truly believe he is in a wonderful place, however I have had to work hard on dealing with the loneliness I feel because he is gone. I find myself feeling depressed because I cannot get over the terrible memories of how he suffered.

I was so depressed and wanted so much to be with Landry that I considered how I could take my life and still make it to heaven and have my boys taken care of, along with coming up with a way where the boys would not think it was selfish for the choice I had made.

I am still in shock. I have it in my mind that Landry has gone away and will be back to be with me again. The loss of the most loving person I ever met is so permanent that I tend to deny that he is gone forever.

I have been doing better, however, relying on the visits with a therapist who provides me with feedback about how and why I feel the way I do and the possibility of trying to move on, while at the same time understanding that I still miss and will love Landry forever.

I think of him when I look at the clock and notice that the numbers are the same, like 2:22 p.m. or 4:44 p.m. Landry and I had this thing we did whenever we noticed that the numbers were the same — we kissed and said “I love you.” It was really special when it was 11:11, because that was for our four boys. So often when I have been sad and looking for a sign, I will look at the time and notice that the numbers are the same — and it comforts me.

In order to provide a lasting memorial for Landry, I worked with Charles June and Landry’s friends Luther and Laura Jett to create the Landry Gray After-School Program in the new Charles June Karate Institute on Reedy Branch Road in Winterville. We purchased the land before Landry passed away and I made a promise to him that I would build it. People who knew him are pitching in to make our dream come true. It is scary for me to go from no debt to almost $1 million in debt, but worth it because Landry would have done it for me.

The program offers at-risk kids structured after-school sessions and summer camp, with four classrooms separated into age groups. Transported from their home school each day, students will come in and receive help with homework from experienced tutors, a healthy snack, outside play, research-based computer programs and a library to enhance and enrich children’s learning, plus one karate class. The program will support the goals of the N.C. Standard Course of Study in preparing students for success in school. Additional nightly classes will be offered to children and adults during the day and evenings. The program opened Jan. 15, but the grand opening was scheduled for Jan. 31 — the first anniversary of Landry’s death.

Wendy Haddow-Green Gray, a native of Jacksonville, lives in Greenville and is Early Intervention Coordinator for Pitt County Schools.

Registration forms for the Landry Gray After-School Program are available at the Charles June Karate Institute, 4918 Reedy Branch Road. Call 752-7283. Cost is $50-$85 per week. Summer camp is $135 per week.