Does it get easier?
Hi, my love--Happy anniversary. This should be number six, instead of the third one (how hard to believe!) that I have spent missing you. I've been buoyed up, lately, by wonderful friends, and by your incredible little girl. It never gets easier, watching her miss you--especially at those moments where I know she isn't aware what it is she's missing: your encouragement, your comfort, your adoration, your playfulness. I, on the other hand, know exactly what she needs--what we both need.
In honor of you, I spent 3 hours this weekend on the phone with people who knew you, loved you, and loved us. It was good to miss you with somebody. I am less proud of the fact that I monopolized a conversation at a friend's open house with my nostalgia, and reduced a very nice new friend (at least I hope she will be a friend) to tears about her own recent loss of her mother. It was, perhaps, not my finest hour.
I wish you were here to talk about the silly, odd traditions of anniversary gifts, to have a quiet lunch, to go for a walk. I wish you were at work, and I could be secure in the notion that when I came home--or you did--we'd be together, a family, the way it's supposed to be.
I love you.
Your wife
Labels: anniversaries, widowhood
posted by Unknown @ 1:53 PM
2 Comments:
Beautiful letter. So sorry you had to write it.
Sending hugs. And more hugs.
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