The 10th year

I am trying to dress for church

and my eyes keep leaking.

It's a problem.

 

I am seven weeks and two days into my tenth year as a widow.

I know that because it was exactly seven weeks and two days

after Al's death until our 37th wedding anniversary.

Today would have been our 46th.

It is the 10th I have commemorated as his widow.

 

When we celebrated our 36th,

I had no idea that the next year I would be a widow,

that ten years later,

I would be thinking "only four more until 50!"

Alone.

We should have had 50!

 

Those of you who are long time readers

may remember my writings on the "nickles",

those 5th year events. 

They were somehow harder,

more significant,

because our culture measures significance of events in fives.

A 9th or 11th birthday isn't a big deal,

a 10th is.

A 24th anniversary, okay.

A 25th, WOW!

A 26th? Back to okay.

Fives.

 

Even bigger are tens!

As a fellow widow friend pointed out this week,

the math is easier.

And since death enlarges everything to those remaining...

 

So here I am,

in my 10th year of widowhood

and just like the fives,

the tens seem somehow more significant, larger.

 

I thought I was doing well,

and I am.

But this week, 

this entire month,

I have been "off".

The last several days

I have been overly sensitive,

moody.

And today my eyes are leaking.

Maybe allergies.

Or a mild bug.

Or renewed grief.

 

Ours was an adventure in marriage.

We worked hard at it.

Sometimes we did great,

sometimes not so well.

But the thing that was consistent,

the thing that kept us working when it was hard,

was deep love,

    deep need,

        deep admiration,

            deep respect.

We each knew the other very well.

We saw what others didn't.

Ours was a marriage worth working at!!!

 

This morning I am sad.

My heart hurts.

And I am glad.

For my sadness is the result of a marriage that was worth having.

 

Happy anniversary, Alfie!

 

 

 

 Place me like a seal over your heart,
    like a seal on your arm.
For love is as strong as death, 

its jealousy as enduring as the grave.
Love flashes like fire,
    the brightest kind of flame. 

Many waters cannot quench love,
    nor can rivers drown it.
If a man tried to buy love
    with all his wealth, 

his offer would be utterly scorned.

                        ~~ Song of Solomon 8:6-7 ~~