All The Days of My Life

Our Lady of Fatima Catholic Church

Our Lady of Fatima Catholic Church

It was twenty years ago that I became Steve’s wife. I was 22 years old and filled with the expectancy of youth. Our lives were laid out before us. We had moved from Michigan to Georgia. We had a small, one bedroom apartment that was sparsely furnished with hand-me-downs from family and friends. We slept on a mattress on the floor because we hadn’t even bought a bed yet! We were young, happy and in love.

We got married in the small Catholic church in our hometown, the same church where Steve had been baptized as a baby. There was no air conditioning in the church and we didn’t think much about it since June isn’t usually too hot in Michigan in mid-June. On our wedding day, however, it was one of the hottest days of the summer! I was sweating in my big wedding dress as I waited in the bride’s room of the church. Friends told me that Steve was in the hallway pacing. He must have been nervous! I was excited and a bit nervous too.

As I walked around outside to the back of the church, I heard the bells chiming. It was 12 o’clock noon. It was time for my wedding to start. The day I had been waiting for since I met Steve was here. I would become his wife!

I cried so much during the ceremony. I am an emotional woman and my wedding day was no different! On that day, June 18th, 1994, I vowed to love Steve “all the days of my life.”

I am struck, even today, at the irony in those words. We didn’t vow to love each other “until death do us part” as the traditional vows usually say. Our vows were specifically, “all the days of my life.” I don’t know why the priest chose those words for us but God knew that was the vow I should take. He knew I would continue loving Steve long after death would part us. I am amazed when I look back and see God’s hand in our lives long before our faith caught up to Him.

I spent ten years as Steve’s wife. During that time, we created a home and a family. We bought our first (and only) house. We had a son and a daughter. We took family vacations. We loved each other. We were expecting our third child when God took Steve home. I kept thinking that someone must have made a mistake because how could Steve be dead when we weren’t even done having children?

There wasn’t a mistake. Steve was gone. In an instant, I was no longer a wife. I was a widow.

The past ten years have been filled with confusion, pain, sadness, anger, friendship, family, happiness, love and a deepening faith that has sustained me throughout my widowhood. God has never left me. He was with me the day I lost Steve and He has been with me every day since then.

On our wedding day, twenty years ago, I didn’t know that when I vowed to love Steve “all the days of my life” that it meant I would love him more years as his widow than I would as his wife. Only God knew what those vows really meant. What a blessed woman I am to have had such a great husband and to have such a loving God who had His hand on my life, long before I ever knew it.

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Life Goes On

There’s one thing that I’ve learned on this journey of widowhood: life doesn’t stop for grief. As much as I wished I could curl up and just grieve, the world still existed. My children needed to be fed. I had to go to work. In fact, my experience has been that the world expects grief to last a year. During that first year, people are more patient with grieving souls. They understand your grief, they accept it and you are encouraged to grieve.

After the first year, however, you are expected to “be over” it. It’s no longer acceptable to break down in tears for no apparent reason, to be exhausted because your grief is the worst at night, to have a hard time concentrating. What I found, though, was that the second year without Steve was actually harder than the first year. During my first year, I was pregnant and just trying to make it from day to day. My life centered around my children and the new baby I was carrying. Our first holidays without Steve are a blur. I went through the motions, for my children’s sake, with the goal of just making it through those days. The first Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s, Valentine’s Day, the kids’ birthdays, the birth of our baby, our wedding anniversary, Father’s Day. If I could just make it through the first year, I thought I would be okay.

I was wrong. The second year without Steve turned out to be the hardest of all. I had to find a new “normal” for me and the kids. I had a new baby to care for, all by myself. There was no denying that Steve was gone and he would not be coming back. I had to accept this life that God had given me. I started dating again. The world expected me to be healed but I was far from over the grief of losing him. It has taken several years for me to feel as if I am healed. I made terrible mistakes during my grief. I married the wrong man because I thought that being married would make me a better mother. I dated to avoid loneliness. I drank too much to self-medicate the pain. My journey of grief did not end after one year.

Steve’s birthday was last week. It has been almost eight years since he died. When I reminded my son about his dad’s birthday, he said to me, “That’s gonna be a hard day for you, Mom.” My children have grown accustomed to my grief and they know that certain days of the year are harder for me than others. I am happy to say, though, that my grief has subsided into thankfulness for the memories, love and children that Steve blessed me with during his lifetime. I cried for a few minutes on his birthday but then I showered and got ready for work. Life goes on.

‘Til Death Do Us Part

June 18th, 1994. I remember that day as if it was yesterday. The hopes, the dreams, the love of the day. It was my wedding day. I would finally marry my high school sweetheart. After nine years of dating, we were going to vow our lives to one another in front of our families and friends. I was 22 years old and Steve was 24 years old. We were so young, and we had our whole lives ahead of us. I could never have imagined that I would only have ten years to be Steve’s wife…

I thought it would be fun for all of us to get ready together so my mom and my bridesmaids spent the night with me in a hotel on the night before the wedding. One bed couldn’t be slept in, however. I hung my wedding dress on the curtain rod and spread it out over the bed. We all had a good laugh about the fact that my dress was more important than some of the girls getting a good night’s sleep! I couldn’t possibly take the chance that my dress might get wrinkled, right?

I woke up that morning before anyone else did. I took a bath and tried to calm my nerves. I was so excited! It was my wedding day! Once the others got up and had breakfast, we headed to the hair salon. It was my perfect day so far! My mom, my sisters and my closest friends, all with me and preparing for my wedding. I felt like a princess!

As we drove back to the hotel, I drove with the seat pushed way back so it wouldn’t crush my veil, which had already been put on by my hairdresser. I have a vivid memory of singing to Trisha Yearwood’s song, “She’s in Love with the Boy” as we were driving down the road. My mom was telling me to slow down and I told her that no cop would give me a ticket in my veil. It was my wedding day! I was elated!

The first time I saw my bridesmaids in the fuschia dresses I had picked out, it brought tears to my eyes. My sisters and my best friends all looked beautiful. I was speechless. I couldn’t believe that the day had finally arrived. There had been a year’s worth of planning to make it all happen but I was finally going to become Steve’s wife. Even the word “wife” had a magical ring to it that day.

Steve’s dad picked us up from the hotel in the white Cadillac he had rented for us that day. We couldn’t afford to get a limousine so Steve’s dad was playing chauffeur that day. It was so gracious of him and I was touched by his thoughtfulness.

We arrived at the church to wait in the bride’s dressing room. We were getting married in the Catholic church where Steve had been baptized as a baby. The church meant a lot to his family but it was a small church, and didn’t have air conditioning. We thought it would be okay since we were getting married in June. June in Michigan is usually pretty comfortable and not too hot. That day, however, was one of the hottest days of the summer!

I have memories of sweating in that room….of my friends saying that Steve was pacing back and forth in the hallway….of my sister bustling my dress after the ceremony. Bits and pieces of a day that changed my life. The day I became Steve’s wife.

Our wedding vows said, “I will love you all the days of my life.” They didn’t say, “‘Til death do us part.” It didn’t matter too much to me back then, it seemed more like a matter of semantics. I think God knew it was more than that, though. The truth is that I would only be Steve’s wife for 10 years yet I would continue to love him for all the days of my life.

Death hasn’t taken my love away, but it has changed it. My longing for Steve has gone from missing my husband to missing the father of my children. My focus in life has shifted from building a family with Steve to raising the children we created. 18 years ago today, I took a vow before God, my family and my friends. I am still living that vow and will continue to do so…all the days of my life.

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