Twenty-Five Years

Picture yourself back in time twenty-five years ago today. It was a Saturday and a much warmer day than today is and sunny, with only a few clouds in the sky.

On that day, a young man and a young woman were united in holy matrimony at his parent's home. She wore her sister's wedding dress and a little lace maid’s cap, he wore a baby blue tuxedo (as was the fashion of the day for some unknown reason). His best friend was the best man, her oldest sister was the Matron of Honour and they were surrounded by other friends and family.

After five and a half years together (though some of that time was actually spent apart), they were ready to make the biggest commitment they could. So, as their loved ones watched, they promised to love and cherish each other until death parted them.

It was a vow that they would keep. They had their share of ups and downs, but through it all they loved each other and they spent almost twenty-four years together as man and wife before his life was cut short tragically.

Of course, I'm talking about my parents. Today would have been their 25th wedding anniversary, if my father were still alive. Twenty-five years is a lot. Hell, my parents weren't much older than me then and I know I'm not remotely ready to get married. Not for about five or ten years.

Still, my parents always intended to make a big deal out of their 25th anniversary. My father wanted a huge party and at the time of his death fifteen months ago, we had already started talking about it.

I can't help, but think of what might have been. About how if he was still alive, Taela and I would have been putting up decorations and organizing things and how it would have taken place this past weekend. There would have been friends and music and lots of fun. If only he were still here.

But he isn't and the milestone never occurred. Still, it's weighing heavily on my mind what today would have been and I'm sure it's even harder on my mom. This is the anniversary of one of the happiest days of her life, yet the person who made it so happy isn't here to share it. I'm sure that makes it really hard.

So, I thought I'd be a good daughter and make her dinner tonight. I mean, I don't want to make too big a deal out of it, but I thought I'd do something nice since she's probably feeling pretty sad. I know I am and it's not even my anniversary.

But for me, it's not the anniversary itself that's so hard, since we already had to face it last year. No, for me, the hard part is the ghosts of what might have been. I just can't stop thinking about it and it's so hard...