They say that the “firsts” after the loss of a loved one are difficult. It’s as if grief uses these firsts to attack. Well, this past weekend was my 1st first.
The 1st first was the first anniversary with out my wife. As a matter of fact it was our FIRST wedding anniversary. That’s correct. We were married 1 year ago. The 1st first I experienced was our first anniversary. The celebration was taken from me, from us. So, this first was a double slap from that bitch called grief.
The milestone which marked one year as husband and wife was one we were greatly anticipating. Of Course, who wouldn’t? It wasn’t; we hope to celebrate our first anniversary. This was the first of many to come. Now it is the 1st first of many more firsts to come.
Anniversaries are a celebration of commitment and shared love. It was to be a celebration of one of the happiest days of our life. We had each other, finally. Our dreams had become our reality. We had plans- not huge plans, but plans. I simple day of pampering with pedicures, couples massage, followed by getting dressed for a night out on the town. This escape downtown would be caped with the night being spent in one of the nicest hotels in the state.
Claire was a planner. As a matter of fact, I feel as if she planned our whole relationship leading to marriage as if from heaven above. But, she didn’t plan on not spending this day together.
In honor of these plans, in honor of our anniversary and in honor of my amazing Claire, I went ahead with our plans. I wanted to bitch-slap grief. Solo, I went and had the pedicure and the massage. I didn’t go to the hotel. I mean what would be the point, just to sleep in a luxurious bed? (Which wouldn’t be too bad) I have friends aware and sensitive to my 1st first and they invited me out. I had a great day and a great evening. Our first anniversary was a success and a personal triumph, I was able to bruise grief.
This was only the 1st First. The next 12 months will include many more firsts. More points that grief will try to score. We almost had 12 months of firsts. These next 12 months I will be solo.
We had been joined, we were one, we had a union. Now, I am solo in this union. Solo to take on grief.