It was my boyfriend’s 61st birthday this past week. Or it would have been, if he had lived to see it. Needless to say, this caused me to think about him quite a bit. I wonder what my life would be like now if he were still in it. Without a doubt it would have been quite different. But I have no idea whether it would have been better or worse.
Chuck was the most amazing person I ever met in my life. And when he was at his best, I’d be speechless with admiration for him. I loved his generosity, his humor, his integrity, his determination, and the quirky way he looked at the world. But no doubt we’d have fought over this recent election, and his extreme health issues took a lot out of both of us. Would I have made it to Seattle? This climate would have been awful for his asthma.
Would we even still be together? Our relationship was a passionate one, which was great in many ways, and not so great in others. We tended to wash over each other like waves on a beach, unstoppable, and yet advancing and receding with the phases of the moon.
Why even speculate? Why do I mark my calendar with the date of his birth, the date of our first kiss, the date he moved in with me, the date of his death? Am I simply torturing myself? Maybe I should stop keeping track of these things. Maybe I should only remember them if I don’t have to be reminded.
But I’m not ready for that. Not yet. I have not yet reached that level of letting go.
My friend Carole recently told me, “Sweet memories are hugs we give ourselves when we are alone.”
I like that.
Don’t take anyone for granted. My book makes a great gift for the one you’re most grateful for. Check it out. http://amzn.to/2cCHgUu