Posted by anniegirl1138 on February 14, 2008
A Valentine for My Husband, Rob
Every woman needs a Sasquatch of her own
Life being incomplete without one
Earth signs are best
but at least born in an Oxen year
Able to shoulder all manner of burden
Physical and Emotional
Soft
but with firm and unyielding flesh
and principles
Impish, teasing,
able to giggle and explain (nearly) everything
Confident of being able to do (nearly) anything
Beacon bright blue eyes,
furry all over
and with very warm feet
Every woman needs a Sasquatch of her own
Life being incomplete without one
Today is a Second. It is our second Valentine’s Day as a couple. To anyone who hasn’t been widowed, this would be hard to understand, but to those of us who have experienced the death of our most loved one, it shouldn’t be very hard at all. During the first year of widowhood, there are Firsts. The first birthdays: theirs, children’s, yours that the person is not there to help celebrate. The first wedding anniversary that doesn’t count towards the total. Holidays whose meanings and traditions will change because of their absence. Rob and I have done all those things as widowed people. But today is a special day for us because today is the first Second of our life together. We have been together for over a year. The birthdays and holidays from this point on will be ones we have celebrated as the two of us and it is such a wonderful feeling. Seconds become thirds and fourths and a decade followed by another one. A damn long time.
Happy Valentine’s Day my lover. Here’s to our “second” and the damn long time to come.
Posted in Seconds, anniversaries, love and relationships, poetry, remarriage of widowed people | Tagged: love and relationships, marriage issues, my husband, Valentine's poems | 1 Comment »
Posted by anniegirl1138 on October 5, 2007
My horoscope earlier this week reminded me that I shouldn’t question why I am so lucky or whether or not I deserve the happiness and tranquility I know now. Rather I should bask in its warmth and know that I am entirely welcome to it. Like so many things these days, I am in awe of the peace and the sheer cozy joy of my life here in Canada with Rob.
The first time we meet in person came about a month after Rob had declared himself to me in a long rambling email that only he could write. I remembering impatiently skimming it to find his point because I knew there was more on his mind then just greetings of the day and updating me on his goings on. We had been writing to each other for about six weeks when he informed me that his feelings had turned more than just friendly. I was rendered speechless to the point where I couldn’t even type a reply and that, for me anyway, is true speechlessness. Our first sight of each other at the airport in Idaho Falls sealed our fates completely, interlocking our destinies for a damn long time to come.
Ten minutes ago, I saw you.
You looked up when I came through the door.
My head started reeling you gave me the feeling the room had no ceiling or floor.
-from the musical, Cinderella
I spent those first 36 or so hours with him nearly mute. I couldn’t look at him enough. Touch him enough. Be near enough. And I couldn’t find words enough to tell him so. And it wasn’t a dream nor did it even feel like one. The reality of him was as grounded and concrete as any experience I have ever had. I had dreamt of my future so often in the bleak times that came before that his arrival at such a time and in such a way pulled me up by the short hairs.
I’m not eloquent enough to count the ways or compare Rob to a seasonal time frame. I am not a poet. Nor can I fashion a tune or fill a canvas with what I felt that weekend and since. Even words, my friends in nearly all times, can’t seem to help encapsulate what is Rob or our love for each other. Both are boundless and ever expanding like the universe seeking its outer limits. Unlike the universe, however, there are no edges to be found and no inevitably advancing implosion. I know it and couldn’t tell you how I do. It’s like the feeling you have when you wake up and see the sun rising pink and orange and you just know that whatever the day brings, its all good.
Though the ensuing months with the thousand plus miles between us strained our patience and brought a few valleys and rainy days, that are just part of living and learning and loving, I still get that same feeling of Idaho Falls when I wake up next to Rob every morning. How will I ever find time enough to spend with him before old age takes its toll and claims us?
Posted in remarriage of widowed people | Tagged: love and relationships, spellbound | Leave a Comment »
Posted by anniegirl1138 on September 26, 2007
Although I was recently reminded that I have been widowed for less than two years and only married again for about five minutes, I want to take a moment to recognize my wonderful husband, Rob, and be grateful for our life together and bask in the glow of our love and happiness for all the world (a small world indeed as there are but a few loyal readers here) to see.
While it’s true that this is just the third month of our damn long time together, and just ten months since we met, all journeys have to begin somewhere. And, every new beginning, to borrow a line from the group Semisonic, comes from some other beginnings end.
Happy Anniversary, my lover. Je t’aime.
Posted in remarriage of widowed people | Tagged: love and relationships | 1 Comment »