Rick and I were married on July 12, 1997. He died one month after our twentieth anniversary. This Friday will mark the second time I’ve spent our anniversary alone. In a way, it’s almost the third time, because on our last anniversary together in 2017, he was pretty sick and often mentally confused, so our special day wasn’t so special. He did try valiantly to maneuver his walker down the movie theatre aisle, and he attempted to eat a meal sitting across from me at the local diner, because he wasn’t up to Mexican food and beer at On the Border. But the whole date was a huge effort and not at all what we envisioned our twentieth anniversary celebration would be.
Then again, he was here to celebrate the date, and now he’s not. I’d give anything to relive that day if I could. Or would I? Would I put him through all that suffering again? Would I wish that he could be here with me now, if that meant watching him slowly disappear before my eyes all over again?
No. Definitely not.
Last year, to mark our special day, my niece (the maid of honor at our wedding) and I went out and spent the evening doing what Rick and I probably would have done together if he were still here. We had dinner at a Mexican restaurant and went to see a movie. This year, I’m not sure what I want to do. How do I “celebrate” an event without the person it was meant to be shared with?