Happy Wedding Anniversary. True, my husband's been dead some seven years, but I celebrate his gift of love just the same. Each year, if I'm able, I return to a campsite way up Maine's coast, where we would celebrate our anniversary. Perhaps in the future I will have a reason to lay down new patterns of celebration. I hope so. I am soooo ready!
His absence is a gift I've come to appreciate. In the emptiness I've discovered my neediness. I've discovered my fear and confusion. I've discovered my compassion and tenderness toward my neediness, fear, and confusion. I'm also amazed to learn that the more I welcome this emptiness and enter into it, the more I can welcome others into my life. Grief isn't all that bad, because letting go gives me more space inside to love anew.
I've come a long way. I've a long way to go. I'd like to share a little bit about me to give it context.
I was born April Fool's Day, an unexpected gender from an unexpected conception, cross eyed and needy. Mom and Dad thought they were quite through having children, but into the family I popped. Mom, already overtaxed in her capacity to mother, let me believe I was the final straw, calling me her accident, her mistake. Of course, I figured if I was smarter, or prettier, or popular, she'd welcome me. But, try as I might, I never became enough. I then tried to 'un' be, figuring if I disappeared, I wouldn't tax her capacity too much and she'd be at least grateful.
Unfortunately, neither approach resulted in a single "good job!", "I love you", or affectionate hug. Oh, dear. I then built a wall so high inside you couldn't see me and I couldn't see you. I wouldn't have to feel the sting of rejection should my neediness show and someone not have the capacity to fill it.
My husband was a big part of my healing, and I'm pretty angry that he isn't around any more to be my fan. I know my biggest fan is God, amorphous as He/She is. I trust I'll grow, that when I say an unconditional "Yes!" to life, no matter what its circumstances, a larger love will manifest. It's just so bloody lonely sometimes. Still, the love story this anniversary celebrates is but a part of the larger love story I'm still writing. I would dishonor my late husband's love for me if I didn't enter this larger story.