Pamela Joy,
Here I am on what would have been your 60th birthday. It was always the best day of the year for me. It was our biggest holiday of the year since we fell in love in 1994. Why did it become my favorite day of the year? Do I really need to explain that to you?
I dreamed of you in my early childhood years, but only realized it was your blurred image seared in my mind after several years of marriage. The love we shared was, by all accounts of those who knew us, very different and very special. To us, it was just our love and we treasured it in our hearts. The analogy of the cord of three stands that is not easily broken fell slightly short. We were more than woven or braided together, we were melded together as one by the love of God. You were his gift to me and my most precious treasure.
My favorite day of the year is now confusing. Should I cry today since my precious treasure is now living in heaven and I cannot spend this day with her ever again? Should I morn? Should I celebrate as I have for the last 28 years? Should I laugh remembering all of the fun times? Should I return the beautiful smile on your face that is always in my memories? Yes. Yes to all of the above.
Tears have slowed in the past few weeks. Now they come for five to thirty seconds then dwindle away as smiles replace them on my face. I still miss you and the love for you still warms my heart even if it brings a twinge of pain from absence.
I will always love you. Now I know that you will always be deep in my heart despite my fear that you would fade away. You cannot be removed from my life. Does that doom me to the place of a perpetual mourning husband who will never know happiness again? I don’t think so.
In the last week, I sensed a change in me. Something is different. I have found that with my medical issues now behind me, or under control, it is like I emerged from a tunnel into an open field.
When I was having AFib, I could not allow myself to grieve heavily, but grief cannot be held back or controlled. So, when it would hit me hard, I would try to minimize it as much as possible because it would triggered my AFib which would produce anxiety. The attempt to minimize it was pure self preservation, but the grief broke through anyway. Still, it was such a confusing swirled canvas of emotions and physical symptoms, that I could not determine what was grief and what was medical.
Today, in the open light of the beautiful sunny field, I believe that the hard days of grief are back in that dark tunnel behind me. I am not naive enough to think I am done. I just think I have moved to the next path on the journey. But, today is still special to me because you were so special. I will remember your love and our life together all day. It will warm me on this December day.
Love always,
Brad