Yesterday would have been Eric and my 8 year anniversary. That sounds like such a long time! Technically it will be our 3rd anniversary since he died, but we were so close to our 6th that I still think of it as my 2nd without him. Does that make sense?

Honestly, I felt pretty good the whole day. I had work meetings that took up most of the morning, and then dinner and the cemetery with some girlfriends (partyyyyyy). Not to say I wasn’t sad, because that would just be ridiculous, but it wasn’t overwhelming in the way some of the other significant dates can be. I think it might have something to do with the fact that it is a grief day that I can claim as my own. The other hard days have an affect on so many other people, but our anniversary is just for me. Not that other people aren’t sad about it, but it’s not the same as D-day or something like that. I don’t have to be responsible for anyone else’s feelings today.

Our wedding was so much fun! Eric and I both just wanted to make sure that everyone had a great night. We danced down the aisle, wrote our own vows, had the ceremony and reception on a bluff overlooking the beach in South Haven, and danced until the cops showed up. There was late night swimming in Lake Michigan, wine bottles hidden in bushes, and two neighborhood dogs even randomly ran down the aisle during the ceremony. It stormed all morning until the pictures started, and started up again just after the last dance of the night. It was perfect.

But our anniversary marks more than the wedding, it marks the start of our marriage. Since I’ve been so open about our lives through the Caring Bridge site and this blog, people sometimes think that we had this perfect marriage where we never fought or struggled with anything. That couldn’t be further from the truth. We had all those newlywed struggles that [hopefully?] plague so many couples. We had to learn how to live with each other, how to communicate well, how to fight fair, and so many other lessons. But I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it a million more times; after Eric got sick, we focused on putting each other first. From there on out I would be so bold as to say we turned it into a pretty perfect partnership. Not to say we never fought again after he got sick, but it was different, in a great way.

It seems weird to share the negatives, but I like to look for silver linings in everything, and if me sharing that Eric and I fought like crazy for a while helps someone else, then it seems worth it. I’m not ashamed of our struggles, because without them, our triumphs wouldn’t have seemed as monumental.

For better and for worse, in sickness and in health, until death did us part. ❤