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Some Thing Old, Something New, Something Borrowed and I’m Blue

Posted on: August 10, 2019 | Posted by: Bryan Martin

Last weekend I was at a close friends wedding. I loved the people, the venue and the time away from my regular hectic schedule. On a beautiful hill at a colonial inn in rural New Hampshire, we all gathered under three towering maple trees to watch two friends join together.

 

I was in the wedding party. We had rehearsed the walk through the perfectly manicure grass to the shady cathedral. I was really proud of myself for honoring my feelings of grief but maintaining composure. I was being true to myself and I was ok at a wedding. I overheard my friend saying that a group of pictures by the reception were of those people he had lost and wanted to remember. I knew that he was going to have a photo of Tin on that table and I was honored. No matter what, I knew Tin was going to be there with us. I walked over to see what photo he had chosen from the 4 years he had know Tin. Would it be one of Tin’s goofy looks? Would it be Tin and our dog Roan? I was secure and confident I could look at whatever photo he had chosen, I could cherish that moment again and I could go on with our celebration. Good job Bryan. Good job.

 

The wedding was about to start and I made my way over to line up and there it was. My friend had chosen the first time he had ever met Tin and took a photo. I fully understood why he chose that photo but he did not understand what that photo would mean for me. You see, he had chosen a photo from that first meeting that had Tin and I in it and there I was on the table of “we wish you were here” except for the fact that I was there. There is no other way to symbolize the part of me that died when Tin died than choosing that photo. The emotions hit hard and strong but I kept it together (for the most part.) People in the wedding party saw the photo and, knowing the story, consoled me as we stood and waited to walk down that grassy isle. I appreciate the care but what they didn’t understand was what that photo would mean for the rest of the night. I mean how could they get it? Unless you’re a widow than you can’t really think like one of us…

 

I was the only living person in all of those photos. I was the living person that was going to hold the weight of that table. The sorrow. The pity. It came out in looks, comments and “I’m so sorry” hugs. I appreciated the support but it wasn’t my day. I wanted that love to all be directed to my friends. I didn’t want to be that guy at the wedding. The widow. The lonely. The opposite of celebration. So I stood strong and danced for joy at the reception. I do admit I left the reception once when they called all the people in love to the dance floor. I could tolerate being there with the song but I’d stick out like a sore thumb as the lonely gay widow sitting by himself but who am I kidding? No matter how hard I try, I am that guy…

Categories: Widowed, Widowed & Unmarried, Widowed Effect on Family/Friends, Widowed Memories, Widowed Milestones, Widowed Emotions, LGBTQ+ Widowed

About Bryan Martin

In 2016 my life all started to fall into place. A new job as a Supervisor for animals at a small aquarium along the beautiful Florida gulf coast. It was a dream for Clayton and I to move to the beach, get settled and get married. In June of 2017 my father passed away after a long battle with opiods and alcohol. Four months later, Clayton was rushed to the hospital and diagnosed with acute liver failure. Not having been able to truly mourn my father, I was faced with knowing that Clayton (Tin as my family calls him) would also be leaving me. I had dreams of marriage, vacations and a long life together. I watched all of those dreams fade away more and more each day as I cared for him until his final days. He passed away April 16, 2018 the day after my sister’s birthday.

Now I am through the fog of the first year and reality is setting in this second time around the sun. I’m very much alone in this sleepy beach town. I’m trying to just maintain balance with my new normal. I get depressed, angry, sad, jealous, confused and disoriented. Some days are better than others and I remind myself that it is normal. So many people think my life is back to normal and fulfilling because I work with dolphins and penguins but the magic left everything when Tin passed away. I have trouble feeling passion about most things that used to light my fire. I have feelings that oppose one another and it is exhausting. I want to feel happy for others but want to know why I can’t have what they have.

Along my journey, I have had tough days and some wonderful days but at the end of each day I still don't have the answer to my one question....Why?

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