Anniversary

Tuesday, May 24th, should have been my 8-year wedding anniversary. Instead, it was one day past the 16-month mark of my husband's death. And so Tuesday was just another ordinary day with the added sparkle of tears, pressure of heartache and thoughts of what should be. It's been a LONG time since I've had the sparkle of tears in my eyes consistently throughout the day.

Saturday May 24, 2008 was a rainy, cold and overcast day. We shuffled in and out of the hairdresser under rain coats and umbrellas. Dresses were transported to the church in double-layer garment bags and plastic. And then the clouds parted and gave way to the most beautiful late afternoon sun I think I have ever seen. I had insisted on pictures before the ceremony and our timing couldn't have been better. My photographers (two friends) captured these images of us as I was "revealed" to my soon-to-be-husband.

For MONTHS prior, I had made multiple trips to multiple dress shops searching for the perfect one. And he had complained. After all, it was "only a dress." But I will never forget how he looked in my eyes, told me I was beautiful and that I had found the perfect dress. He made me feel like a million bucks.

Our ceremony was small and simple. My sisters as bridesmaids, his brother and best friend as groomsmen. We chose the shortened (still too long in his opinion) Catholic ceremony and it was perfect. The emotion I felt feel for this man is unsurpassed. 

He wasn't one to express emotion freely, but on our wedding day he told me countless times how happy he was, how much he loved me and how excited he was to share the rest of our lives. I know he was happy...and now I pray that he died a happy man.

I haven't felt the level of happy shown in this picture in just over 16 months. Sure, the girls and I have had many happy moments but it's a different kind of happy, you know? Sam and I were perfect for each other. Marriage was easy. Don't get me wrong, we had our little spats but very few knock-down-drag-outs. Because we understood each other, had the same values and beliefs, agreed on budgeting and child-raising and all those big-ticket items the experts say cause divorce. I can't count how many times we remarked that we were lucky to have each other and not go through some of the fights our friends were experiencing.

I have always been a serious, no time for silliness, person. But somehow, Sam was always able to break through that and help me let go and have FUN. Again...none of that FUN for me in far too long. He was a big kid at heart, always joking and teasing to the point of being irritating but loveable. He didn't hold grudges, loved wholly and laughed easily. 

And these are the things I remembered about my soulmate, best friend, lover and the father of my children on what should have been my 8th anniversary. There were no last-minute runs to town for the card he forgot to buy ahead of time. No card telling me how much he loved me, how much more "action" he wanted or telling me that "as long as we have each other, we can make it through anything, Babe." Nothing. There was laundry and dishes and fighting toddlers and the sparkle of tears in the deafening silence and loneliness that surrounded me. Hell, my own family didn't acknowledge that it was my anniversary. (His did, by the way, which was a welcome surprise). Just another day in single-mommy widowhood. I try so hard to try to remind myself of this part of our vows when I'm struggling.

Yes, faith, hope and love remain. But it's not the same. And I'm not sure it ever will be.

Then what?

It's times like right now that send me into a tailspin. Times when the girls are at a sleepover with Grandma, the house is eerily quiet and I'm here by myself. A million things to do, yet hardly any ambition. Times when I finally let out that seemingly endless breath of air I constantly hold and just sit. And think. What am I going to do with my life?

Will I always be alone? Do I want to be alone? Do I want the girls to grow up without a constant father-figure in their lives? It is so very apparent at get-togethers that they relish the attention of other Dads...their friends and Uncles. But we do ok on our own, I think? Do I want to try to incorporate an "outsiders" point of view into my child-rearing, plan-making and daily routine? Do I want to sit here, by myself, when the girls have graduated and moved out...wondering what to do with myself?

I don't think I want to be alone, but I don't seem able to open myself up to anyone. I'm guarding our hearts and being selfish with my space and my time. I don't want to have to consider relocating (because it's not even a consideration), leaving my home to move elsewhere in town, disrupting the girls' lives as they know it yet again. And those are selfish thoughts to have in a relationship. So...it's just easier if I don't allow the relationship.

But then what? You know, it really sucks to have nobody to discuss the future with. Make plans with, spend time with, lounge around the house with. And there will come a day (all too soon), that the girls will be off doing their own things, with their own friends and I'll be left here alone, again, with no little girls constantly underfoot. Then what? What am I going to do with myself?