Nineteen years

This evening marked 19 years since Alanna and I were married at the Franklin Park Conservatory in Columbus, Ohio. It was interesting that the McCain campaign was having its post election gathering at the Hyatt Regency in Columbus tonight. I saw it on the national news coverage. That's where Alanna and I spent the night after the wedding. So it goes.

I'm not thinking about her nearly as much as I thought I would today. The All Saints Day remembrance last Saturday brought it back aplenty for me already, I guess. As I lay here in bed getting ready to sleep I recognize the same hole that has been here for the last 7 and a half months. Missing her has yet to stop. There is little to bring back because it has not yet left me. It is the dull ache that one becomes accustomed to with time. It is only noticed upon reflection, since our minds set it aside as best as possible so that life may be handled. It is the terrible wound that builds fluid and must occasionally be drained in order to heal. My tears and pain from Saturday were the timely aspiration of the anger and loneliness that builds constantly. The wound is healing, slowly, but it is healing. As a paraplegic learns to compensate for the loss of mobility, so I learn to work around the terrible amputation from my soul.

I do miss her. I do often wish I could have her back, but never at the cost of her further suffering. I choose to remember Alanna both as the tower of strength she was in her last days and also as the healthy, vibrant woman in the picture I include here. It was taken less than two months before we discovered there was a problem with her jaw. She was so beautiful. She remains so. Eighteen and a half years together was 40 years too short for my liking. Still, what a blessing she was to me. Thanks, God, for such a fine partner and such a good run together.