I’m Sad Today

My body remembers anniversaries, and this one is no different. It started at midnight, when I woke up. Then again at 2:30. With the help of a sleep aid, I slept until 7:30 this morning, but even coffee in the gazebo didn't ease my troubled spirit.

My husband is gone. 3 years ago today. He held on for our two-month anniversary before slipping away. And even “slipped away” doesn't feel quite right, because I still feel him looking after me and sending reassuring signs.

Since writing has become important to me, I reclaimed the room that once held his treasures and collections, and later his office furniture and golf memorabilia, and made it my writing space. I moved the desk under the window and added a cozy chair and a tranquil corner.

After completing the room, I opened the desk and saw his wallet inside. I’ve picked up the wallet multiple times over the last 3 years—first to empty it and return his driver's license, then to ask myself if I was ready to give it away. However, the wallet was happy staying in the desk, so I left it there. This week, I opened it. It was empty except for 2 one-dollar bills that I don’t remember being there previously. Usually, he likes to send me dimes and sometimes quarters, but this time I got two bucks. I took it as confirmation that my room has his seal of approval. It’s comforting to believe he still cares.

This is the 3rd time I’ve gotten a big sign from him.

The first was when a pair of earrings I’d lost a year earlier appeared on my dresser side by side on a holiday. He is my only explanation.

The second was when I put the gazebo in the backyard. I had gone outside to put flags in the ground for the concrete crew so they would know exactly where I wanted it placed. When I bent to insert that first flag, I found a tiny blue toy llama.

IYKYK.

But for those who don’t know, we planned to get married at the Alpaca tree house, with the animals allowed to wander through the ceremony. Blue was my maid of honor's dress color.

Yes, non-believers will say that Harper left the llama in the yard. I won’t contradict that. I do find it interesting that months later, it would appear at the exact spot where I was planting that first flag. That’s confirmation enough for me.

Some memories and circumstances still make me mad today. I can hold the anger and the sadness at the same time. But today, I’m going to lean into the sadness instead of the anger.

I miss my Alby every day. Some days more than others.