Anniversaries suck
Exactly two years ago, almost exactly this time of day on November 30th, I was driving home from the hospital. My wife had been feeling under the weather with what she thought was just a cold. I took the Monday after Thanksgiving off from work so I could stay at home with her and take care of her. Suddenly, unexpectedly, her oxygen level crashed, and she passed out. A 911 call, the paramedics racing upstairs, reviving her, having her ask me "were you scared?", watching her go unconscious again before they get her to the ambulance, racing to the hospital behind the ambulance, sitting in the waiting room, getting pulled aside by a nurse to deliver the news that she hadn't made it to the ER alive. They took me back to the room with her body in the ER, where I sat. Probably in shock. No one could come visit with me, due to concerns that she had died from COVID (turned out that she hadn't). And just like that, she was gone. I got a call later that night from the coroner asking questions and getting permission to do an autopsy, and just monotonically told them everything I knew.
Months passed in a blur, handling her cremation, her estate, taking care of her step-granddaughter. Due to COVID, I didn't hold her celebration of life until the next summer, so that all of her many, many friends could be there. Of course, the car broke down on my way to the event - just Kay reminding me one more time that sometimes things just aren't under your control. Then things go back to "normal": you're back at work, celebrating holidays, spending time with friends, all while maintaining the illusion that things are okay. You don't tell anyone that there are songs on the radio that bring you to tears, EVERY DAMN TIME. Songs that you have to turn off because you just can't handle hearing them.
Kay liked to portray herself as a hard-ass bitch. I think it was her way of coping with working in an overwhelmingly male office. Truth was, she was a total softie. Never met the charity she wouldn't donate to. Had pizzas delivered to nurses she knew at the hospital. Bought school supplies for another friend who was a teacher and needed them for her students. She was big, and loud, and funny, and had dozens more friends than I have ever had. And we just loved each other, and were so fucking happy that we had finally found each other after all this time.
Last year I left town for Thanksgiving so I wouldn't be home for the first anniversary. Decided that was the best way for me to cope with the memories. This year..... I'm here, in my quiet house. I'll have a drink (or a few) for my Kay, for the time we had together, and for the time we didn't get to have.
= new reply since forum marked as read
Sending you hugs.
He went just like that, suddenly. I understand. It is so hard going home to that empty house
Grief, someone much smarter than me said, is the price we pay for love.
Stay encouraged, Colorado. ❤️
