This upcoming Friday, August 10, would have been my parents' 55th wedding anniversary. As I look back with idealistic memories of my parents and how they celebrated this joyous occasion, I look forward with true sadness and despair. I will still call my mother and wish her a happy anniversary, even though my father will not be there to answer the phone like he always did, I will call her to make sure she's OK regardless. I know it will be difficult for me because I will never hear his happy voice when he heard I was on the other end. I will never hear him call me that nickname he gave me since I was a baby ever again. I will never hear his voice at all ever again.
I'm sad and I'm truly heartbroken. I had hoped that I was able to visit and spend that time with my mother so she wouldn't have to be alone, or have her come here, but since I started my new job, that just wasn't possible. She chose to prolong her visit for another month or so instead. Why? I don't know, but it's her decision either way.
My mother is doing well. Surprisingly well. I admire her strength and I know as their anniversary approaches, I know it will affect her. How could it not? Perhaps that is why she is choosing to not visit at this time, because she probably wanted to be alone during this sad occasion. Instead, she will spend it with my father's spirit and celebrate their love and their many years of marriage, which would have been a colossal observance. It was special to her, and still is. She says she talks to him everyday as if he's still there in the same room with her. Perhaps it's possible he is, or maybe he isn't and her voice goes unheard. But for my mom, it makes her feel better, and that's all that matters. It's her way of dealing with this difficult time as she continues to grieve.
How she chooses to grieve is her choosing and I will not begrudge her for that. It is her choice, not mine. I know she loved him, and that's all that matters.
I will celebrate it in my heart, knowing that it would have been a monumental occasion for them, many years of marriage that has seen many downs, but mostly ups, where they finished each other's sentences and laughed at what most people would find ridiculous and silly. It was just their way. They were like two peas in a pod. A long marriage that unfortunately is atypical these days.
As anyone could surmise, I still miss my father very much and still continue to think about him every single day. It makes me sad as I reflect on what a wonderful father he was, but grateful at the same time. But mostly, I reminisce about him and how he had such strength and energy, and I remember what he stood for and how hard he worked as we were growing up to ensure we had everything we wanted, and of course, a roof over our heads and food on the table.
Yesterday afternoon during some down time at work, I was admiring some old photos that I took of my father last summer and this past December, and it saddened me greatly. I know it always will for a very long time, and as it still brought tears to my eyes, I realized while I was sitting at my desk, at my new job, I knew I had to put my phone away and look away until I was able to compose myself. It was difficult nonetheless.
The upcoming celebration of their anniversary will be a quiet one without my father's presence, but I know in our hearts, he will always be there and I know for my mother, his memory will never fade away, even on that celebratory occasion.
I miss you, daddy. I love you very much.
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