On a Personal Note
This Sunday families will gather to celebrate Father’s Day. This Sunday would have been my 40th wedding anniversary. I’ve had a few months to consider the duality of the day for my children and myself. There’s a wide expanse of emotions that I’m already feeling.
Memories loom large as I consider the date and how I want to honor it.
I’ve come to a couple of conclusions. The first, of course, is my children would not be here if my husband and I had not said “I do” in the front of the church where we said some of our vows in Spanish. My daughter, Alicia, and my son, Kenny, are the two greatest gifts in my life. Tears are welling as I write this now, representing the profound gratitude to God for making me their momma and the love I have for them.
The second option that comes, as I ponder this Sunday, is the collision and coexistence of opposing responses. I was blessed to have 36 years with my husband, Fred. Our last anniversary celebration was in Boston where we walked the Freedom Trail and ate lobster. Two of his favorite things together; history and eating fish. I hoped to have more than 36 years together. However, I am grateful for the years I did have and grieve the ones I don’t get to have. There’s so much good in knowing we have space for both.
The coexistence of gratitude and grief began after Fred died 3 years ago. I realized in a gentle, yet profound way that I was filled with a depth of appreciation for what I had in my marriage while standing in a gaping, wide hole of grief and sorrow. It was a strange dichotomy.
June 20 will always be engraved in my mind and etched into my heart as a day of celebration. This year I will be with my children and we will celebrate and toast the day I married their dad. There will be tears and there will be laughter. Once again a reminder there is room for both at the same time. Truly, I am grateful to be able to honor, remember and grieve what I had and embrace, enjoy and experience what I still have.