Anniversaries are, in general, a prompt for looking back. They’re an annual reminder to be reminded of the past. While oftentimes, an anniversary is also a milestone, it still remains that, simply put, an anniversary measures the passage of time.
They don’t really MEAN anything to widows. Our person is neither more, nor less dead on their death anniversary than they are on any other day, but damned if we aren’t reminded of the fact that they ARE dead a whole hell of a lot more.
Interestingly, other dates tend to morph into this reminder as well. Shelby’s upcoming birthday? I’m always reminded of the fact Megan isn’t there to see her reach twelve years old. Halloween? Megan loved halloween...she would enjoy being here. The anniversary of the date I was discharged? Oh wow, now I remember how I met Megan a few months after that.
That’s the thing, it’s like I can’t have an anniversary or holiday anymore without feeling the pressing need to remember Megan and either A) remember how she was on that day, or B) point out the fact that she’s not there.
But today’s anniversary? It’s different.Read more
Tomorrow is my wedding anniversary.
It would have been 12 years of lovely marriage.
Instead, we got 4 years and 9 months.
But who's counting?
And does it even really matter anymore?
I mean, I think that no matter how many years it's been since the last anniversary, this day will always hit me like a bag of bricks across the heart. I just think it will always hurt that my marriage was ended abruptly by death. It will always hurt and be unfair to me that I will never celebrate a decade of marriage with Don Shepherd. Or 2 decades, or 3. Or our first child, first house, vacations, life struggles, career moves, on and on and on. I think that no matter what, I will always feel intense sadness on my wedding anniversary, and I will always have this "lost puppy" feeling, of not knowing where to go or what to do on that day.
Tomorrow just sucks. Tomorrow is hard. Im still uncomfortable with being around humans on that day. I feel awkward and filled with sadness when they cheerily say: "Happy Anniversary!" , or when they tell me to "cherish the love you had!" Yes. Thank you for the advice, but don't you think I already cherish the love I had and still have, every single second of every day? Cherishing something while also being aware that it is forever gone , is a pretty empty feeling.
So, tomorrow, and probably forever on every October 27th, here is what I miss:
I miss getting flowers from my husband on our anniversary.
Now, sometimes on that day, I will buy myself some flowers. If I feel up to it. But usually, I just do nothing, because buying myself flowers feels worse than not having them.Read more
Oh, the sadness of October.
My wedding anniversary.
Followed by our honeymoon anniversary,
just days later,
and then Don's birthday, just days into that.
October 27th we married.
Its toward the end of the month,
and its true what they say.
The build-up to these milestone days,
is often worse than the actual day itself.
But then again,
the actual day itself
is , for me, just heart-wrenchingly sad.
There are no triggers. No panic. No anger or hysterical sobs.
Just intense and very real sadness.
The kind of sadness that sits in silence by the ocean,
listening quietly to the waves, as they swish by one by one by one.
It's the kind of sadness that not many understand.
It has no drama, and would be boring to describe in a movie about grief.
This sadness makes me feel the need to put a pause on life ,
just for a little while. A few hours. A day or two maybe. If possible.
I need to just sit with the idea that my husband is no longer my husband,
but a cherished time and memory. An inspiring thought. A dream unrealized or
He is the man who loved me first, and who changed me forever.
He died loving me, and I will have his whole heart forever.
There is a sad comfort that lives in that knowledge.Read more
Yesterday, July 25, is the third anniversary of our wedding without him. That’s three more anniversaries than I celebrated with him. We didn’t get to celebrate a single one. I try to imagine what we might be doing on our third anniversary but it’s hard to both predict and recall something that never once happened.
Would we be going out for dinner the two of us? Would we be cuddling on the couch with our dog Tango having a drink? Or would we be celebrating it as a new family with a baby? The truth is, I don’t know. I will never know. It never happened and it will never happen.
I feel he is so far away right now. Like it’s been a lifetime since I’ve seen him instead of two years. I feel like part of my memory of him is slipping away. I can remember him and what we did but I can’t feel it. It’s hard to recall what his hug feels like. When I imagine it, it sometimes feels feel like maybe I’m just making it up now. I don't like it. I feel guilty for even admitting that I feel like I’m forgetting the feeling. What kind of widow am I? I don’t want to forget.Read more
I'm writing this from an airplane, somewhere over the Indian Ocean, as I'm on my way to Bali to spend a week at a beautiful yoga and healing retreat. It's a funny story actually... this whole trip only got planned on Tuesday. Yes, as in four days ago.
It came about through a range of unusual circumstances and has really had me thinking about how (a) we never really know what is around the corner and (b) even the biggest skeptic could struggle to pass these events off as coincidental, when all signs point to my late husband organising me a special post-wedding anniversary gift.
Let me start at the beginning...Read more
It's always been a hard reality for me to swallow that I never got a full decade with Jeremy. Something about that round number made me feel even more like I got robbed.
I started dating Jeremy shortly after I turned 20. He died when I was 28 - I never got to celebrate turning 20 or 30 with him. Just inside a decade.
Since my husband’s suicide in July 2010, I have struggled with feeling likeI was not enough.
I was not enough to keep my husband alive.
I have felt that if I was a better friend, a better wife, a better support system, my husband would still be alive.Read more
Fourteen years ago, I awoke in my childhood bedroom … well got up anyway … I was too excited to sleep much.
My bridesmaid, my Mum and I quickly ate breakfast and took ourselves down to the salon for 'hair and makeup'.
We emerged hours later, coiffed and painted, but still recognisable.
Everyone ate lunch … not me … I couldn’t eat for the excitement.
Then I put on my beautiful dress, remade from the Guipure lace from my mother’s gown.
I looked beautiful.
More than that.
Lit from the inside.
The flowers arrived.
The photographer arrived.
(I wrote this post on my blog Saturday night/Sunday morning. Saturday, the 28th, would have been our 28th wedding anniversary.)
....in infamy. Or at least in history.
Son #2 graduated tonight.
He did it.
In spite of .... so much.
On this day.
This once very happy day.
Like everyone else who shares the title “widower” or “widow”, I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t kick sleeping dogs or twist baby toes to make them cry. I can’t imagine what I did that pissed off the devil (or God) to get me to this place but here I am. Here you are. I’m not going anywhere so I might as well be polite and introduce us (me and my wife - we come as a package.)Read more