I’ve had anger pop up lately.

I’m angry that he died.  That the beautiful life we planned was cut short.  That he’s not here to see the amazing grandbabies.  That I’m raising two young men to adulthood without his influence.  That he’s not HERE for me to lean into.  That he’s missing out on so much.

I’m angry that Father’s Day is coming up and I have NO IDEA what to do to honour him. Or if the boys and Katie WANT to honour him.  I’m angry that they don’t have their father to celebrate.

I’m angry that he left me.  That I’m alone. That I have to date again if I don’t want to be alone.  That all the good things, all the sad things, all the frustrating things go unsaid because he’s NOT HERE.

I’m angry because he’s not here.

(as a side note, I’m reading this and the children’s book “Red Is Best” keeps popping up in my head.  Thanks Mark for the giggle in the midst of the anger)

I’m angry because I’ll never again know what it’s like to kiss him to insensibility.  I’ll never again feel his arms around me, hear his heartbeat, feel his warmth.   I’ll never again have him run his fingertips up my back while I’m trying to read before falling asleep because he’s trying to get my “ahem” attention. (he usually succeeded)

I’m angry because I don’t know if what I’m doing is right.  Because I could always bounce ideas off him.  He was beyond smart.  Tested at 20+ years of education.  Only finished gr. 10.  And he was so freaking smart.  And I don’t have that to bounce my thoughts against anymore.

I’m angry because he died.

And so many other’s get to live.

In 9 days it will be 3 years.  Every year I inch closer and closer to 49, the age he is forever.  And I’m angry that there will come a day when I’ll be older than him.  I was never supposed to be older than him.

I Miss You


2 thoughts on “Anger

  1. Widow Strong says:

    Last year I turned the age my husband will forever be. I struggled with that in a huge way, but not as much as this year as I approach the age my husband will never be. Like you I say, I was never supposed to be older than him.

  2. Jacqui says:

    I know this becoming older than our husbands ever got to be, it happened just a few weeks ago. Today I wrote in my own journal of memories. It’s quite long, but I hope you don’t mind my telling this part of my story:

    Sky, sea and stone

    Soon after we met you wanted to take me to a special place of watherfalls and trees. We spent days looking for the steep valley, but you could not remember the way. The next summer I took some naughty teenagers to a summer camp in Wales and saw on the map a valley that I thought coud be the place you had been searching for, so I went and saw it’s beauty. As I walked in the shallow bed of the river a single stone caught my eye so I picked it up and walked on. All of of the stones were cast by the same hard geography, the colour of rainy skies and rocky mountains. Another caught my eye, quite some way from the first and I picked that up too. Turning the stones in my hand they found the place where they joined together, they were of a piece, and I knew I had found our place.

    At home I gave you one of the fitting stones and told you now I could take you to our special place. Many times we camped by the river, forded across one of the waterfalls and walked behind another, where you always like to pee, adding your stream to the torrent of white water. However it rained, we we always happy.

    In the awful days of our seperation you once said, “There’s a hole in the sky.” That was how the world was, some terrible thing had happened, something inexplicable and entirely wrong, only mended when we were reconciled.You took me to our place of waterfalls, telling me to bring my stone and throw it back with yours into the river, you said, “They world is as it should be again.”

    It is your birthday today, I am now older than you ever were and you begin to look young in your photo, you who were always more wrinkly than me. I see my reflection in the mirror and am dismayed to see that I look older than you, not because I am vain and dislike my jowls and wrinkles, but because you are not here to love my face and tell me that the blue of my eyes is like the sky and the sea as we grow old together. My eyes are less blue now they do not reflect your green and there is a hole in the sky.

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