Twenty four and Holding

 It was a day significant only to me. There may have been others who glanced at the date, paused and remembered where they were 28 years ago and then smiled a bit sadly. The only other person the date mattered to was buried in a country cemetery. Until death do you part is a real thing.

The years marking a wedding anniversary no longer count. With the death of a partner, the clock stops, the calendar page no longer turns. But the date will forever be etched in my mind. Memories of the day- a warm summer day with no cool air swirling in the old country church. The smell of paint wafting from the fresh coat that had been recently been applied downstairs. 

Smiles, love as my Dad walked me down the aisle and gave me away - finally!- to the man who waited at the front of the church and would be my partner in this madness called life. 

I remember the details of our wedding day well. The pictures make me laugh but the memories make laugh harder.

And then, life. So many good years. Traveling, drag racing. The constant rotation of vehicles in our garage, proof that a “car guy” is never content. Adventures that he talked me into ( I went willingly) that made teenagers look more responsible than us. Friends. Family. 

The valuable life lessons learned. Compromise. Fighting - respectfully. Saying “I’m sorry” and “I love you” because we always loved each other, even if we momentarily didn’t like the actions of each other. Doing ridiculous things to end a “standoff” like the time my 6’1 partner in crime put a metal mixing bowl on his head, grabbed another as a drum that he beat badly out of rhythm with a wooden spoon…into the living room…wearing his boxers and a tshirt… because he knew it would make me laugh and he was tired of me being angry. I was tired too so I laughed, but only after I made him parade around the room. 

There was a lot of “in health”. But, the last few years, there was “in sickness”. He asked me once if I regretted marrying him because of his health concerns. I looked at him, tears steaming down my face mirroring the tears streaming down his and said “never”. And it was true. I made him promise me that I would die first because even though I’m stubborn and tough and independent I didn’t want to do life without him. He didn’t promise - how could he, it wasn’t in his hands. And so he fought - hard- to stay alive and get the transplant that would keep his life, and ours, going. But it wasn’t meant to be - a week after we celebrated year 24 he died, suddenly. 

I was pissed off at him. His death was not his choice but I was pissed that he died first. And pissed that he died at all. And pissed that our calendar stopped at 24. I was so pissed - so fucking pissed- that I kept living just to “show him”. I’m no longer pissed, have nothing to prove but I keep going because if he could fight hard to live (after a life of working and playing hard) who was I to half ass life? More importantly, I simply love my life. This life, the life I’m building. Life can be different but it can still be beautiful.

This is year four without him. Year four of Facebook posts and pictures talking about how much I miss him. The first year I celebrated by howling in pain. But a funny thing happens when you’re stubborn and independent and want to move forward and live your best life. My sense of humour has returned - in spades. The longing for more- years, anniversaries, togetherness- has dissipated. Why long for the impossible? This year I remembered by going for a spin in the rebuilt 1964 C10 Chev 1/2…grabbing a Diet Coke and filming a quick video for social media- a video that poked fun of his “rules” for driving his pride and joy, rules that I may or may not obey (insert halo here). A video designed to make all of us giggle and smile. This year I napped in the sun, smiled as I remembered the good times and laughed bawdily at the few times we fought. There was a lot of laughter and love and even though the chapter has closed, I can select what to remember and celebrate. I celebrated it all, embraced it all, with smiles. 

So cheers to all of the years we marked. Cheers to meals at nice restaurants, here and abroad. Cheers to intimate meals at home. And cheers to what will forever be my favourite and most unique anniversary we spent- wandering the Pick Your Part junkyard for some car part (God only knows what because I didn’t) followed by a Costco hotdog and pop (I’m not sure we were dressed decently even for there)! Oh! And a Costco sundae because it WAS our anniversary.

And cheers to the relationship we had. The one that initially bent me when the man who will forever be My Favourite Husband died… but not for long. It was a solid foundation of love and respect, peppered with humour and grit that got us through the moments of despair and pain. It taught me how to be a great partner with the right person and, later, a great partner to myself.

Twenty four and holding - with love.