October 3rd – the very best & very worst day of my life…
October 3, 1986 – John & I announced our engagement.
October 3, 1987 – John & I were joined in marriage & started off on our journey to happily ever after.
October 3, 2015 – That journey to happily ever after came to a screeching & horrible halt as a result of John’s death.
There are so many things I want to say, yet I’m not sure how to say them, so I’ll just add to this as I think of the words.
What should have been the exciting occasion of our 29th anniversary has become the first angelversary of his death instead. We always looked forward to our anniversary each year with excitement & joy, planning where we would go for our getaway. Now, I look toward it with sorrow & dread. I will forever see Oct. 3rd as 29/1… 30/2… 31/3…. etc. We were supposed to grow old together; we’d just purchased a travel vacation plan; we were supposed to have another 50 years to celebrate our love.
He was my rock, my safety net, my anchor & my wings, my safe harbor in all the storms, my strength, my confidante, my companion, my comfort, my warmth, my back scratcher, my dream sharer, my sounding board, my Mr. Fix-it, my computer guru, my hero, my phone call maker, my guitar player, my built in comedian, my sidekick (or was I his?), my kids’ dad, my husband, my lover, my partner, the other half of my heart, my very best friend. He was the one who gave me courage to do things. He was the one who dragged me out of the house just about every weekend to go have fun. He dealt with my moods much better than I ever did – nothing seemed to phase him. He was the first one I wanted to text when I was upset, or happy, or excited, or mad. He’s still the first one I want to text when something happens. We shared everything with each other.
There are so many decisions I’ve had to make that I wanted to sit down & discuss with him, even though I knew exactly what he would have said. (I could even “hear” those conversations in my head.) We were that in tune with each other – we could pretty much finish each others’ sentences.
Was our relationship perfect? Perfect for us, but no, it was always a work in progress. We *worked* on it for almost 30 ish years. Did we ever get angry with each other? Yes, more so on my side. He was so laid back; I only recall seeing him really angry maybe twice. Upset, yes. Angry – no. He was always the first to apologize, the first to ask if I was okay, the first to say I love you.
That’s one of those regrets I may always carry with me. I seldom said the words, “I love you”. I did on occasion, but never ever enough. He knew though. I’m pretty sure he knew me better than I knew myself.
I miss his unconditional love. I miss how good we were together, even when things might not be that good. I miss being part of a couple. I miss walking in to see him sleeping in his chair while waiting for me to get home, rather than going to bed. I miss our weekend reconnections. I miss him always asking me if I wanted to go out for dinner – even if dinner was McDonald’s…. or breakfast…. or lunch. I miss how thankful he was for anything I cooked. I miss his willingness to be a guinea pig & try any recipe I wanted to fix, at least once.
I miss how much he always spoiled me. I miss the fact that, if I had asked, he would’ve given me anything I wanted, including the moon.
I miss him buying me Fireball, even though he hated it. He knew how much I loved it & wanted me to have the best. I miss how hard he worked to support us so I could stay home with the kids. I miss how proud he was of me & the important job I was doing by being home & teaching the kids. I miss him bragging about me to anyone who would listen.
I miss him coming in to the gym just about every night, giving me a hug, & taking Kiernan back home after I had picked him up from school. I miss him doing all the driving. I miss him taking All. The. Pictures. I miss all the cool things he did to the girls’ competition videos. I miss watching him hug the kids. I miss watching him play games with them. I miss his excitement over the kids’ accomplishments. I miss watching him with their friends. I miss the relationships some of them had with him. I miss the teasing he did – to everyone he ever met (I think). I miss our walks around the lake. I miss our anniversary camping trips. I miss his willingness to jump in & help whenever & wherever he was needed.
I miss being able to snuggle up to him at night. I miss cuddling with him. I miss being able to sit on his lap to get warm. I miss fitting perfectly up under his chin. I miss holding his hand whenever we went somewhere. I miss his hand on the back of my neck. I miss that special look in his eyes. I miss the butterflies he still gave me, even after 28 years of marriage. I miss his silly little smirk. I miss our physical relationship. I miss the silkiness of his hair. I miss petting his beard. I miss him petting my hair or rubbing my head. I miss being able to wake him up when I couldn’t sleep, knowing he would rub my head until I could. I miss being able to wake him up to check out a noise. I miss waking up next to him. I miss going to sleep next to him. (I kinda don’t miss his snoring. Kinda.)
I miss how he always took such good care of me. I miss him telling the T’s ‘no, they couldn’t come in yet’ on weekend mornings, bc we wanted to spend more time alone. I miss sharing showers, even though we could never agree on the water temperature. I miss how much he loved my body, even after 7 babies.
I miss his peanut butter breath from his quick after-med snack when he kissed me good night. I miss his kisses on my nose – even though he KNEW I hated them. He did it anyway, just to bug me. I miss seeing his tattoo every night. I miss having his arms around me.
I miss him bringing me goodies, just bc he knew I liked them. I miss buying things at the grocery store bc I knew he’d like them. I miss our silly conversations. I miss him grilling, even after a stupid long day at work. I miss his parenting input. I miss him being willing to handle the puking kid’s bedding, while I dealt with the puking kid. Or vice versa. I miss being able to ask him to look at/fix something, & not feeling bad about asking.
I miss his daily kiss good-bye, even though it was usually stinkin’ early. I miss him calling me “Love”. I miss his random texts. I miss his stupid jokes, sense of humor, & over-the-top laughter. I miss him holding me when all I could do was cry. I miss him telling me everything would be alright, eventually. I miss his confidence that we would make it through anything, together.
I miss the memories we were still making. I miss the dreams & plans we had for the future. I miss all the things in the future that he should be here for. I miss the future we were supposed to have after all the kids grew up & moved out. I miss the relationships he was forming with the grandkids.
I miss him… so much….
❤ John Weeks ❤