14 Years Ago...

We were supposed to live happily ever after.
To grow old together.
We promised to love and honor, never to forsake, and to have and to hold...
Till death do us part.

14 years ago we stood on the green grass of Arkansas (Mike always made a joke wondering if we were legally married since we wed in Arkansas) and committed our forever to each other.
I got his forever.
Way sooner than either of us ever imagined.
He didn't get mine and I wanted more than anything to give it to him.

I wanted to give him forever.
I wanted to give him till death do us part in a way that meant we were old beyond numbers, wrinkled and gray but still holding on to each other.
I wanted our happily ever after to mean we became one of those old married couples who hold each other's hand as we slip off to forever, only minutes apart.
Having lived a life full of love and dreams.
Having raised our sons to become fine family men.
Having witnessed the birth of our grandchildren and for them to give us great-grandchildren.
That's what I wanted.
I wanted his forever.
I got it.

I just wish I hadn't gotten his forever end of the deal so soon.

The past two anniversaries without him, I have wept for days leading up to August 9.
I have had a pit in my stomach.
I have shaken and hidden away at home, no makeup, in my pajamas, ignoring that I am still alive. Ignoring that I have Mike's forever in our amazing little boy (who isn't so little anymore).
Not wanting to see anyone, talk to anyone, or acknowledge that life goes on.

On this third anniversary of a marriage that was supposed to stand the test of time, I am different.
Mike's untimely death changed me.
It broke so much of me that a new me had to emerge.
The new me had to claw her way to life.
So on this third anniversary of a marriage that was supposed to stand the test of time. I will not cry.
I will not wallow in the depths of grief.
I will not hide away with no makeup or still in my pajamas.

Because, I did get Mike's forever.
He loved me until his final breath.
And I still have his forever in the brown eyes, dark skin, and freckles of our son.

Marriage made me a wife.
Death made me a widow.
It robbed me of one of my most favorite titles.
But it cannot rob me of the rest--
I am Veronica.
I am Conner's Mom.
I am a teacher.
I am a Sister, an aunt, a daughter.
I am a writer.
I am a speaker.
I am a business owner.
I am a forgiver.
I am a friend.
I am worthy of happiness again.
I am worthy of love again.

YES, worthy and deserving and wanting of happiness and love again.

And YOU are too.
Don't let widowhood define you.
Let it empower you.
It takes a long time, I know.
Don't think I "got here" overnight or that I journeyed here too soon post-loss.
I have slept in this bed, this half empty bed, for two years, eight months, and nine days.
I have cried more tears than anyone knows; some out loud in thundering fashion, some secret and silent.
I have ached inside my soul and in every inch of my body.
I have felt the grips of loneliness like nobody's business.
I have prayed countless prayers for strength, grace and for The Lord's Will to be what comes my way.
I have grown new dreams inside my heart, only to see some of them come to fruition and some of them wither away.
I have lived in sorrow and regret.
I have lived in fear and anxiety.
I have lived in desperation.
But no more.

I want to live.
Just live.
With no more words on the end, like sorrow or fear.
I just want to live.
The best I can with Mike's forever growing more and more each day into a fine young man who makes his momma, and daddy, proud every day.

And I hope somewhere along the way that the man who God wants to fulfill my forever, realizes it, falls madly in love with me, sweeps me off my feet, and promises me his forever.
I will gladly give him mine.

Happy Anniversary in Heaven, Michael.
I hope the sunshine is warm on your face and the grass is cool beneath your feet.
Thank you for your forever.

Love,
Me