Death-aversary: The anniversary of when someone died.
Today is the death-aversary of my first husband, Neil. We no longer have anniversaries. Now we have this.
It’s been 8 years since Neil ended his life. 8 years of missed birthdays and school plays and trips. 8 years of missed meals and dirty dishes and going to church as a family. 8 years of missed arguments, and giggles, and shared hopes for our family. 8 years.
For those who grieve you know there is no linear timeline on grief. Year one was brutal. Year two was worse. Year three and four were a cloud of blah. Year five was surprisingly okay. Year six and seven were a bit of a fog. And year eight…what is happening now? It’s almost like enough time has gone by that the messy complications of our relationship before you died have had enough time to breathe and ease, and the love that was there, and the hopes I had in you as a human, are able to be felt again.
I miss you, Neil. We weren’t the most compatible couple. Our marriage and our lives in general were complex. But, your courage facing all the battles you waged, and your joy of becoming a dad are pieces of you I wish I could experience again. I wish I could tell you that and you would hear those words and let them sink in.
Instead, it’s our death-aversary…