Last week was my wedding anniversary. It should have be our 8th wedding anniversary.
I was okay.
I still wanted a steak dinner.
And Kimmy Gibbler was game.
But I did not having anything fancy to wear so we got a fancy steak dinner from Black and Blue Steak and Crab to go (hey it’s 20/20 so it works) and we ate it at the cemetery.
Widow Tip: If you order steak to bring to the cemetery, the steak will continue to cook in the car. My Medium steak was Medium Well to Well Done by the time I ate it. I still ate it even though Well Done steak of an abominaton but next time I will order it Medium Rare.
Please forgive me.
If this seems completely normal to you it means two things 1) you may be a widow and 2) you have an awesome best friend.
I would have gotten steak anyway but it felt better having Kimmy Gibbler to eat with me.
If she hadn’t come, the steak dinner would have felt like that scene from The Sixth Sense when Bruce Willis arrives late to his anniversary dinner and his wife is upset and he hasn’t figured out yet that he’s dead.
A widow can feel that scene.
Though I am 99.999999% sure Bryon knows he’s dead but it wouldn’t surprise me if he was trying to solve all the election fraud problems of 2020. He loved his job.
So yeah…my husband is dead. We know that already.
Every year, our anniversary ends what I call the yearly five-week emotional bender which starts on his deathaversary and ends on our wedding anniversary. In that 5 weeks period, we have both of our birthdays, our daughters birthday, our engagaversary and the start of the new school year where I am reminded that our daughter is another year older and he isn’t here with her.
When I was younger, I always loved September.
I am a Double Virgo and September was always the start of the school year which always felt like the real start of a New Year. I always felt a lot of energy this time of year and now it is overshadowed by my yearly “emotional bender”.
This time of the year always seemed so hopeful and full of beginnings now feels like a drag.
Because I realized that I have given up hoping for anything.
I am too scared to put hope in my future because a better future probably won’t come and even it if did, it can all be taken away like my life from early 2016.
I am not depressed. My life isn’t horrible. I have an awesome daughter and she keeps me busy. I just think it is easier to live in survival /existing mode than it is to actually “live” again.
If I don’t “live” again, then I can’t get hurt. I won’t be disappointed and no one has to be bothered with my sadness.