Today would have been my 37th wedding anniversary. The years were filled with “for better” and “for worse,” “sickness” and “health.” We shared bringing new life into this world and seeing cherished loved ones move onto the next. We had some fierce disagreements and did a lot of forgiving–of each other and of ourselves. We enjoyed adventures together and, as we aged, commiserated with the fact that, more and more often, our bodies laughed at us and asked us, “You think you’re going to do WHAT?!” We comforted each other over the estrangement of a friend or relative, then rejoiced with each other over reconciliation with them.
We helped each other adapt to severe changes in our lives, cried mutual tears of joy at our son’s wedding–and grieved over his divorce–exchanged laughter and knowing looks when hearing a young person’s exact, well laid-out plans for the future, and had our hearts melt at a wagging tail, four paws, and big brown eyes that say, “I’d love you even if you were to beat me.” We worked as a team through hardship, tragedy, heartbreak, and financial difficulties and came out closer as a result.
The “worse” and “sickness” we vowed to get through was not fun or easy, but we got through it because we had one other. Besides, we always focused on the “better” and the “health,” letting the other simply fade away. That’s called Living Life.
We had only 35 years together here on Earth. He has moved on, leaving me with memories and family who carry on his love for me.
I miss you, Frank, but thank you for the years we did have. And for the memories that sustain me.
