Whenever I choose, I can fill my head with swirls of happier images, my sense impressions of my life with Lee. I don’t need to look at our wedding photographs to conjure these emotions; indeed, I couldn’t tell you the last time I sat down to peruse the album of wedding photographs in my bookcase.
My memories of our time together are so deeply ingrained and personally satisfying that, while tomorrow marks our wedding anniversary, to me it will feel like just another day. This might seem counterintuitive. However, making any more of it would elevate an occasion at the expense of recalling Lee for her humanity.
Nonetheless, June will always be a challenging month for me because of this and other red-letter dates on the June calendar. For example, I turn seventy-five in late June. It’s supposed to be a milestone birthday, I know, but at this stage in my journey, I’m grateful for any birthday. This said, Robyn mentioned throwing a party to celebrate my seventy-fifth birthday. Then we both slept on the idea. And, in the light of the next day, refreshed and clear-headed, we had separately arrived at the same conclusion: why bother?
I was born on my mother’s birthday, a calendar coincidence that informed our joint birthday celebrations throughout my life until the day my mother died. Lee and I were not yet married when my mother passed, so it’s been a long time. (I still wonder where my mother managed to obtain the annual “on our birthday” cards.) Of course, I think of my mom often and don’t rely on a calendar or need a special date to be reminded.
These days, the main thing about June, by my reckoning at least, is that it is the month that marks the final days of Lee’s life. The calendar had just flipped from June to July when suddenly, Lee was gone.
Fortunately, I live in the present with only occasional regrets about past events over which I had no control. Even if it were not so, I am fortunate to have Robyn’s love, and the love of a few close friends and family, the living souls who make this life worthwhile.
