Today my brother is celebrating his 36th wedding anniversary. His beloved wife is being cremated today. It doesn’t seem fair. It’s bad enough to lose your spouse three days before your anniversary, but having her cremated on that day seems a bit much for God to give anyone to bear.
Yet bear it, he must. And he is. His wife fought the hard fight and was braver than anyone I’ve ever seen face the big C. But now my brother is the one being strong and brave. It’s difficult for him to think about ever being happy again. He knows the first time something good crosses his path, he is going to feel guilty about ever enjoying anything on this earth again.
People want to rush in and tell him it will eventually be okay, but I so understand what he means. It’s something I struggled with the entire time of his wife’s illness. I had trouble being happy for the good things in my life, while thinking of what their days were like. I thought it was going to continue to be a fight for me, just as it is for him.
Then, driving to yoga this morning in tears, the aha moment came down from God. When people ask me how my husband and I stayed together – on Friday it will be 38 years for us – I always say it’s because we always put each other’s happiness before our own. 38 years of always wanting to have him happy right along with me, forms a deep habit.
This is a testament to my brother’s marriage. He will feel guilty when it’s time to be happy again, out of a beautiful habit of always going to great lengths to make his wife happy. Therefore when the first good time comes along in the future, it will seem wrong for him to smile and participate. But it will only seem wrong. It won’t be wrong to do so. Eventually he will realize the guilt is a product of him always wanting the best for his wife and it’s okay to smile and participate in life again, knowing she is in a pain-free place and at peace.
My brothers and sister and I are all cut from the same cloth. We don’t have a mean bone in our bodies and we want everyone we’re close to to have the same kind of wonderful lives we’ve been given. When tragedy strikes among us, the kind we can’t fix, it’s hard to jump around and clap for our own good fortunes, while one of us is hurting so bad. But we have to.
My first born got engaged a little over a week ago, during this hard time. I had to let myself feel the joy and happiness in her life, despite my brothers difficult days. I pray that slowly, over time, my brother will reach that place where joy can warm his heart again, free of guilt.
And so, as another day goes by, guilt over being happy in the wake of this tragedy just shows what a loving husband and father he has been for 36 years, it just SEEMS wrong to be happy again, but it isn’t, and…I have written.
Photo: (courtesy of Kim Auriema)
1975 – senior skip weekend – I used to think she had the most beautiful long brown hair I’d ever seen. RIP my dear Sharon…
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