This morning I woke up with some anxiety. This tends to happen when I think back to Kevin lately. I feel like I think more about the fact that I’m a widow than I lost a husband. Kevin feels so distant from me. I don’t hear his voice as clear, I can’t remember how he felt or his laugh – it all feels so foreign, as if our life never happened. But it did. I have known that there is a date approaching that I possibly fear more than any anniversary or sadversary or birthday. A date that signals that he will have been dead longer than I knew him. This date is March 23, 2012.
One of my goals in therapy was to learn to recapture my days like our wedding anniversary, the sadversary (death date), and his and my birthdays. When my would-be 5th anniversary passed earlier this month it wasn’t earth shattering. I acknowledged it, I went about with my day, and all was well in the world.
A day I have never faced before, however, is March 23. A day unlike any other because there will be only one.
I have a lot of anxiety coming up to this day but I believe it has more to do with the fact that I feel so distant from Kevin, and that when I pass that date it is a numerical reminder of just how distant I am from him. When I land on and pass March 23, I feel like something will have changed. I think of couples my grandparents age who could never even physically pass that marker – they have or had been with their spouses nearly their entire lives. I can’t help but be jealous. I always hoped I would grow old with Kevin (who wouldn’t hope to grow old with their spouse?).
It’s a somber feeling, one I can’t shake, and one I don’t feel I can spin. I can’t look at the sunny side of this date. But I do want to embrace the fact that it is just that: a date. It doesn’t mean that when I pass it I will forget everything about him. Not everything about him has been forgotten. While some days it feels barely like the life I once had, I do still have wonderful memories of our time together. Even if I can’t recall the smells, feelings and voices of that time, I can remember the memory of what we once were.
I’m pissed a bit, really. Angry that I am reaching this date, that I KNOW I am reaching this date, that I was so young to have lost him and our relationship so new. It makes me quite angry. And sad.
So I’m going to try and shake it as best as I can and move forward towards that day trying to believe that this date doesn’t mean anything. It is just a marker in time. Memory remains.
Any words I can think to say sound so flippant and shallow. Know that I care, my heart hurts for your difficult journey, and that I’m here for you. <>
Brenda,
As always, thanks for sharing. Your topic brings an interesting point to my mind that may bring you some perspective. My mother passed on March 3, 1975 – less that a year after I was born. Although I have a great memory, I don’t even remember that date or nine months later (when I was one and a half years old) that marked the day you are speaking of when she had been dead as long as I had known her.
Hold on to your memories and thank God for them. I too was pissed for a long time that I never even remembered her (she was your age when Kevin passed), but have finally come to realize that God had better plans for her and me.
Have a great weekend and keep on writing,
Stu
PS We close on our house on March 23 and will remember you.
Thank you for sharing Stu. It’s nice to know that other people feel similar emotions and hit markers like this and wonder what’s ahead. I appreciate your sentiments and thoughts with me. I hope the move is a great one for you all!
Thank you Darla. It just feel weird, no other way to describe it. Weird and wrong I guess. Thank you for your heartfelt thoughts, I know they’re genuine.
I was with TJ 16 years so I can’t even imagine what you are feeling. Although, I do feel that I am old enough that I will never be with anyone as long as I was with TJ. An odd feeling also. Hugs to you!
That would be an odd feeling indeed too Sandy *hugs* back