Wednesday, March 26, 2008


On February 8, 2008 my new and indescribably wonderful wife, Karen Luggi-Dixon, passed away after a valiant thirteen month fight against a terribly aggressive and ultimately terminal cancer. She was 43. We fought the cancer together with every fiber of our being, with every ounce of strength and optimism we could muster, and with a deep and abiding love and commitment to one another.

Karen taught me things about love that I didn't even know were there to be learned. I showed her that she was more than worthy of my deepest, most loyal and unquenchable love, and that I would never leave her for anything, ever. She was my angel, and I was her rock. We clung together, inseparable to the end. I miss her too badly for words to adequately describe. My grief is pervasive and profound, and it is impossible for me to return to my focus on writing, at least for now.

I know there is much yet for me to write. Karen said I have much work to do, and none of the stories have left me. But they're in hibernation until I am somehow able to return to some semblance of 'normal' and rediscover a purpose in writing. Karen was my Purpose, and without her all else seems pointless. I'll work each day to move closer to the day I can write again, because that's what Karen told me she wanted me to do - sooner rather than later.

I'll do what I can to accomplish that. And one day, perhaps soon, Novel Number Two will hit the market, as will my significant expansion of The Pict. I hope my readers will wait with patient understanding until then.

If you're inclined to do so, drop by and read the prayer that Karen wrote for her own funeral service. It will give you some insight into the beauty of her soul, and the strength with which she faced her adversity.



Mimi Jackson said...

Whoa - I just randomly went one post back in your blog, and found this entry. I had to read the first paragraph three times to fully digest it. My heart goes out to you.
I was "anonymous" in my comment before - this time I won't be...

Jack Dixon said...

Thank you so much, Mimi, for your caring. I know that each of our spirits is supposed to be magnified by our sufferings and by any tragic loss. It's the ultimate challenge to make that so, but the kindness of others helps...a lot.


K.A. Denby said...

Jack, I cannot even begin to express adequately my regret for your loss. Even though our relationship has been limited to email and blog exchanges my heart goes out to you and your family. Kelley and I will keep you in our thoughts and prayers, and we hope that you will continue to write, and therefore do what makes others happy. You have my email address. Please do not hesitate to contact me anytime you need a sounding board. Sometimes a semi-stranger is good for those kinds of things. Take care, and God bless you.


Jack Dixon said...

Thank you, Kris. I highly value your support and encouragement, and your thoughts and prayers mean the world to me. Karen was adamant when she insisted that I continue to write, and that I get to it as soon as possible after her passing. I will do so. I have too many stories to tell, and too much desire to tell them to let it drop. The grief of such a loss makes everything else pointless for a time, but I can feel the tug of the stories growing stronger and more persistent. I'll find great comfort in writing when I get back on track, and I'll write every word for her.

" what makes others happy." You have no idea how much warmth and encouragement those words gave to me. For others to find happiness in reading what I write is the greatest reward for which I could ever have hoped. I will certainly do have my word. Thank you so very much for that, Kris.

Give my best to Kelley. I'm deeply pleased that you have one another. We'll talk soon, my friend.