Today would have been Andrew's 31st birthday. My workplace was closed, so I worked from home, and it was a sad, quiet day. 30 seems like a very small number, when it's all the years you're given to live. I'm sad for all the things that he won't get to do any more - the physics he won't do, the cats he won't adopt, the beer he won't get to drink. Life is a pretty terrific gift, and I wish he had received more of it.
I tried to do a few things during the day that would bring me and others happiness. I baked a cake. I took the dog on two extra-long walks, and then treated her to a dried pig ear (not a treat that this vegetarian would choose, but Ada likes them). I gave the cat some catnip, and I invited people for dinner.
I'm grateful for the family and friends that called and texted me today, to tell me they were thinking of me. I'm grateful for the friends who double-checked my plans, to make sure I wouldn't be alone, and the friends that threw a party in his honor last weekend. I'm grateful for the new friends who came to dinner, and then asked lots of questions about Andrew, so that I'd have a chance to talk about my memories. Thanks, everyone.
11 comments:
Hug. Quietly.
Just went and gave Irulan and Aura a squeeze for Andrew. It's right before feeding time, so there may have been a tiny bit of blood shed, but well worth it.
We tried to make yesterday special too but it is so hard. We find some consolation in that they were thirty very good years.
It does seem like he packed a lot into his lifetime. We miss him and are thinking of you.
Shawn and I are honored we got to help you celebrate his birthday yesterday - thank you for letting us share in his delicious birthday cake.
I am sorry I missed that important milestone. :(
We are thinking of you and sending lots of hugs.
From the Andrew we came to know, I'm sure he would say that the best gift he ever received was you.
Howard and I do think of you often and pray that the memories you two shared will with time give you comfort and happiness.
While this is a sad experience, thank you for sharing this inspiring story. The cake in his honor sounds wonderful. -jimG
I relate to this a lot. My husband died when he was 32. Since he was older than me, it was six years before I was 32. It was kind of an eerie year for me. I spent a lot of time reflecting on how it was not enough time to be alive, there was still so much left to do, and I felt similar to you in thinking about all that wasted potential that would have been with Mike.
I also felt a little bad when I turned 33... because I became older than he ever was. And I continue to get older than he ever got to be. It still makes me feel melancholy. Beautiful people should not have such a short time to experience life. It's colossally unfair.
Anyway, it seems you handled the day well by surrounding yourself in friends. The anniversaries are the hardest. I still feel pings of them years later, even after being recently remarried. I think it's okay to feel this way. I still remember my grandmas, after all, and miss them from time to time. That's the greatest legacy people can leave... the love they left in our hearts remains for the rest of our lives... I truly believe that.
I also think that remembering the people we lost makes us love the people who are still here more... Because we recognize our time with them is so limited... My take-away from young widowhood is that I love more deeply and appreciate more greatly.
I'm so sorry, RM, that we missed this milestone. I saw your mom's post on FB, but I did not think to call. Our thoughts were with you, and I am glad to hear that you were so well supported and surrounded by the love of friends and family.
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