I have put off writing as long as I can today. I've cleaned my kitchen, including drying my dishes AND putting them away. I have read yesterday's paper and done the crossword and Sudoku puzzles. I have used the weed eater until the battery ran down. I have reconciled my bank statement against my Excel spread sheet. And, I have eaten lunch. I have no more excuses for not facing today for what it is--my 49th wedding anniversary.
I didn't think it would be a big deal. After all, this is the fifth year I have "celebrated" while my husband sits in prison. I should be used to it by now. But I'm not. In fact, it is getting harder because my emotions are no longer buried where I can't find them. They are much closer to the surface. That means today I am both mad and sad. So, what do I do about it?
I guess the best thing to do is see them for what they are, and ask the Lord's help in finding a constructive way to deal with them. First is the anger. It isn't a yelling, foot-stomping type of anger. I have never dealt with anything that way.
The first two years or so I didn't even think I was angry, just a little ticked. I tried not to think about my anniversaries as all. That way no emotions could arise--if I had any in me, which I doubted. That was a little hard because my dad would send me anniversary cards; so would my husband. Those guys were just creatures of habit and doing what they had always done I reasoned. That way I didn't have to really think about the taboo word of the day--anniversary.
The next few years my anger caused me to question why I married at all. I felt I would have been much better off if I had remained single. My dad no longer sent cards. That was good. But by husband still did. His cards really angered me. How dare he, especially after what he had done?
Now, at the five year mark, my anger has become the mad-sad feeling I have today. It makes me feel sorry for myself and wanting to throw a pity party. Oooooh poor me, boo-hoo, sob-sob, snort, blow, and wipe my eyes.
I'm sad because there will be no special celebration dinner, no time alone with each other, no time discussing possible trips, no shared popcorn at a movie. I know that seems selfish, but that is what I'm feeling.
As I write this, I feel bad that my sadness is more for me than for my husband. He is much more of a romantic than I am, so this day for him is probably much more difficult. At least I have my kids around, he doesn't.
My kids, our kids. Wow, The Lord just used those words to shown me the constructive way to deal with my mad-sad. I need to change mad-sad into scads-of-glad. I have been blessed beyond belief these past 49 years. I have three wonderful children with wonderful spouses, and nine amazing grandchildren (counting my married grandsons' wives) They are all are strong in their Christian faith and serving the Lord in amazing ways. I have a husband who showed his children, by example, how to love unconditionally, help those in need, tithe, experience the outdoors, and honor their wives.
Honor their wives might sound completely absurd coming from me, but it isn't. Despite what my husband did, and considering how hard and far he fell, he was a good husband who honored me. He never hesitated to wash dishes, vacuum, or do a load of clothes if I was busy, overwhelmed with three little ones, or sick. He enjoyed surprising me with an occasional breakfast in bed. He loved fixing breakfast for the family, and he made sure I had alone time when I needed it. We also had date times. Whether a movie, a meal out, or just a walk, he made sure the two us had time alone, away from the kids. My son's learned well.
So today, my 49th wedding anniversary, I can truly thank God for what I have been given. Though the last years have been a roller coaster ride, I prefer merry-go-rounds, I still have been abundantly blessed through them.
Now that I am finished writing, I sit here quite surprised where this went. I was truly on the verge of tears when I started, and have finished up feeling so blessed.
Thanking God for 49 years of marriage, and scads-of-glad,
Jan
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