Yesterday marked two years since my wife Ann’s first husband Will died. She admitted to wrestling with ideas on how to commemorate the date. Ultimately, she wrote a blog piece in tribute to Will, plus another one for the eve prior to the day.
We talked about “dates” and which ones should be celebrated and which ones she thinks could be treated with a “pass”. Most Hallmark dates fall into the “pass” category; Ann figures that we should devote more time to celebrating or marking dates that have some meaning to us. Ann’s example of this is Hallowe’en. Not because it’s a “calendar” holiday event, but because it was while working on a volunteer project Haunted House that she met and fell in love with Will.
I’m a little less inclined to mark days of any kind. Although Ann somehow got the idea that I’m a romantic, I’ve often felt a sense of obligation when it came to marking the “holidays”. I had to get gifts and flowers for Valentine’s Day because the calendar said it was February 14th and I thought it was “expected”. Of course, some days were never negotiable with Shelley. She was generally pretty adamant that we celebrate her birthday (and rightfully so); she was pretty big on Mother’s Day too. Not even my attempts to deflect her on that one with “Well, you’re not my mother; it’s up to the girls to get you something” really ever worked.
That’s not to say that I’m a cold and heartless wretch, either. Even though yesterday was Ann’s “sadiversary” or “remembrance” day, I found myself spiraling down throughout the day falling victim to a grief wave. Who knows why these waves crop up from time to time? Perhaps it was the heightened emotions around our house in the days leading up to yesterday. Or perhaps my memories were triggered by something. If you’ve read the news lately, you’ll know that Heath Ledger died this past week. I found myself listening to the soundtrack from “Brokeback Mountain” yesterday. Don’t know why, just happened upon it while listening to my iPod at work. Why is this significant? Because “Brokeback Mountain” was the last movie Shelley and I saw together in a sit down movie theatre. Not only was it an excellent picture, a good story with excellent acting by both Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal, but though the film was set in Wyoming (and to a lesser extent Texas), it was actually filmed on location in Alberta. In Kananaskis Country. One of “our” places. One of Shelley’s favourite places. Watching the mountains of Kananaskis on the big screen in 2005 reminded us of the week we spent camping and hiking around Little Elbow in the summer of 2003. Although we had my Mom along, we were still able to sneak off by ourselves for some alone time now and then. It was a memorable week.
I guess that Heath Ledger's death represents breaking of another link with the past. And so, thinking about that time, those memories, I was reduced to tears for a while last night.
But now, today, there’s a date to celebrate. In the now. For the future. It’s been one year since I penned a letter to Ann. A letter stating that I wanted to elevate our friendship to a higher level. I was afraid to send that letter. I didn’t want to overstep and risk losing our friendship. And yet, there was something about her. I had yet to meet her. Hell, I had yet to even lay eyes upon her. Yet, there was something about her………
We are meeting for lunch today. I think that flowers are in order, don’t you?
Thursday, January 24, 2008
A Year Ago
We cannot put off living until we are ready. The most salient characteristic of life is its urgency, here and now without any possible postponement. Life is fired at us point-blank.
- Franklin Planner quote that Rob sent to me a year ago today
A year ago today I was at home having called in to work sick because of a sinus infection. I was sitting at my computer, as I am now, surfing the widow board and occasionally checking email (because I was an email junkie then). I hadn’t heard from Rob yet that day, as I was becoming accustomed to, so I checking mail rather often. When his mail for the day finally arrived it was curiously titled “A Difficult Letter” and I became a bit worried. I had been a wreck the last week leading up to the anniversary of Will’s death and in retrospect I think it had a lot of do with the fact that I was spending too much time at the YWBB and the volatile atmosphere and, frankly, negative approach to grieving was feeding some of my apprehensions. Consequently I leaned rather heavily on our friendship and was keeping Rob up quite late at night with our online chats. I was afraid when I saw the title of the email that he was going to tell me that he needed a little space for his own grief and maybe we should not communicate as much anymore. But as I read the letter I began to see that not only were my fears unfounded but the message was heading in the opposite direction. Not that it didn’t take 5 or 6 paragraphs for him to get to the point. He is nothing if not round about at times. But, when he did get to his main point it was this - he wanted to see if there was something more to our relationship than just the friendship that we’d already established.
I was stunned. I just sat there for a bit and read the letter (the parts that get to the point) over and over. And then - I called my best friend Vicki.
“What should I do?”
“Answer the letter.”
Vicki had, almost from the beginning of the correspondence Rob and I established, thought there was more to it than friendship even though I protested that it was not so. She would just smile knowingly and nod and totally dismiss me. She knew better. So I wrote my reply.
Subject:
Thank You. I'm breathing - raggedly - but breathing
Date:
Wed, 24 Jan 2007 12:53:54 -0700
Ann,
Thank you. I don't know if you can imagine how hard this is for me.
Maybe you can.
I'm still a little shaky, really, but now today I am smiling - all the
way from my heart; something that hasn't happened in a while.
Thanks again.
Talk to you later.
Rob
----- Original Message -----
From: ann
To: rob
Sent: Wed, 24 Jan 2007 10:58:06 -0800 (PST)
Subject: Go ahead a breathe, okay
Rob,
Since you probably haven't done a single productive
thing all day, I decided I should send you a short
note now even though I haven't had a chance to really
think about your proposal in depth yet.
I like you too. And July is too far off, I agree.
Now, get some work done. We can talk later.
Ann (who is marveling at the long-winded way that
Virgos manage to arrive at their point)
And that was the day that changed my life - again. It’s funny but despite the fact that by this point I knew that Rob was everything I was looking for in man, I was looking for someone just like him and not at him at all.
From here we began to plan the spring break trip that we eventually become our sojourn to Devil’s Den in Arkansas which is where Rob proposed to me. We, of course, had already managed an face to face meeting in Idaho Falls which confirmed for us what we already knew - that we were meant to be together. And that’s an identity shaker. To realize that you are meant to be with someone who you wouldn’t have even met had your spouse not died. It takes faith in the universe to wrap your mind around that - not your heart though.
This probably seems an odd post coming just the day after two posts about my late husband. It’s not odd to me. It’s my life. The sad and the sweet. The past and the now - and the future. I have been loved and have loved in return. I am loved and return that love with all my heart and soul.
- Franklin Planner quote that Rob sent to me a year ago today
A year ago today I was at home having called in to work sick because of a sinus infection. I was sitting at my computer, as I am now, surfing the widow board and occasionally checking email (because I was an email junkie then). I hadn’t heard from Rob yet that day, as I was becoming accustomed to, so I checking mail rather often. When his mail for the day finally arrived it was curiously titled “A Difficult Letter” and I became a bit worried. I had been a wreck the last week leading up to the anniversary of Will’s death and in retrospect I think it had a lot of do with the fact that I was spending too much time at the YWBB and the volatile atmosphere and, frankly, negative approach to grieving was feeding some of my apprehensions. Consequently I leaned rather heavily on our friendship and was keeping Rob up quite late at night with our online chats. I was afraid when I saw the title of the email that he was going to tell me that he needed a little space for his own grief and maybe we should not communicate as much anymore. But as I read the letter I began to see that not only were my fears unfounded but the message was heading in the opposite direction. Not that it didn’t take 5 or 6 paragraphs for him to get to the point. He is nothing if not round about at times. But, when he did get to his main point it was this - he wanted to see if there was something more to our relationship than just the friendship that we’d already established.
I was stunned. I just sat there for a bit and read the letter (the parts that get to the point) over and over. And then - I called my best friend Vicki.
“What should I do?”
“Answer the letter.”
Vicki had, almost from the beginning of the correspondence Rob and I established, thought there was more to it than friendship even though I protested that it was not so. She would just smile knowingly and nod and totally dismiss me. She knew better. So I wrote my reply.
Subject:
Thank You. I'm breathing - raggedly - but breathing
Date:
Wed, 24 Jan 2007 12:53:54 -0700
Ann,
Thank you. I don't know if you can imagine how hard this is for me.
Maybe you can.
I'm still a little shaky, really, but now today I am smiling - all the
way from my heart; something that hasn't happened in a while.
Thanks again.
Talk to you later.
Rob
----- Original Message -----
From: ann
To: rob
Sent: Wed, 24 Jan 2007 10:58:06 -0800 (PST)
Subject: Go ahead a breathe, okay
Rob,
Since you probably haven't done a single productive
thing all day, I decided I should send you a short
note now even though I haven't had a chance to really
think about your proposal in depth yet.
I like you too. And July is too far off, I agree.
Now, get some work done. We can talk later.
Ann (who is marveling at the long-winded way that
Virgos manage to arrive at their point)
And that was the day that changed my life - again. It’s funny but despite the fact that by this point I knew that Rob was everything I was looking for in man, I was looking for someone just like him and not at him at all.
From here we began to plan the spring break trip that we eventually become our sojourn to Devil’s Den in Arkansas which is where Rob proposed to me. We, of course, had already managed an face to face meeting in Idaho Falls which confirmed for us what we already knew - that we were meant to be together. And that’s an identity shaker. To realize that you are meant to be with someone who you wouldn’t have even met had your spouse not died. It takes faith in the universe to wrap your mind around that - not your heart though.
This probably seems an odd post coming just the day after two posts about my late husband. It’s not odd to me. It’s my life. The sad and the sweet. The past and the now - and the future. I have been loved and have loved in return. I am loved and return that love with all my heart and soul.
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