I wrote this three years ago. It’s every bit still true.
Today is our 13th wedding anniversary. I *knew* that when the church doors opened and the music started to play that I was in the right place at the right time with the right person. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s always been worth every minute.
The Day I Knew He Wouldn’t Leave.
My Grandma died in 1997. I had been dating SubHub for less than a year.
At that point, we were still kind of tiptoeing around each other. I wasn’t sure if I could REALLY honestly believe that he would be there when I needed him. I’d been disappointed so often before, I had trouble even contemplating that he might be different.
So, I kept asking him, “Are you coming with me?” And he would say, “Yes.”
Then he got sick. Like, barely lift his head off the pillow sick. The fear that I was going to have to go through this incredibly emotional experience without him was growing. We had only recently said, “I love you,” and I was hoping against hope that he was the last man I would say it to.
I struggled with myself in the days leading up to the funeral. He had been passing all my little tests thus far. Tests like, “how will he do when he meets my parents?” And, “how will he do during a SubGirl (me) family Thanksgiving?” With flying colors.
So here we were. One of my most beloved grandparents was gone. I missed her terribly, and really wanted him to be there. I knew that I felt stronger with him near me.
The morning of the funeral came, and he showed up at my apartment, wearing a suit, eyes watering, stuffy nose, miserable, and there for me.
It was a turning point for me. After that I really let my guard down with him and allowed myself to fully trust his word. He was there for me. He didn’t try to run when things got hard. No excuses why he couldn’t be there. He’s been there ever since, and I’m so thankful.