On Saturday, I attended the wedding of my grandson and his love. I was happy to be able to see their smiling faces at the moment they were declared husband and wife. Both families shouted with glee.
Though my heart was thrilled to be part of this beautiful happening, I felt set apart from everyone. My husband was missing. It’s been over 9 years but at times like this his passing feels immediate. Part of me is not there.
When I’m in the solitude of my home, I can accept the change my life has undergone. But when I’m out of this comfort zone, it’s difficult. I see other couples together, and happy as I am to see this, I feel as if I don’t belong.
Our church has a senior ministry that meets once a month to chat, play games, and share a meal. Everyone looks so happy, and though it should be appealing to me, it isn’t. Because there are mostly couples there. I’m not a couple. It’s not anyone who makes me feel unwanted. It’s just me. I long for my husband to share these moments with me as it used to be. When we could talk about it later, sharing our thoughts and being comfortable together.
Weddings are wonderful. I’m beyond happy for my grandson and his new bride. For the life they are going to build together, and I pray it will be filled with all the joy my hubby and I once shared. I thank God I was able to see them pledge their love. I am truly blessed! I am grateful to have lived long enough to see grandchildren get married and have children. I am grateful to be a great grandmother. But for this season, I remain a woman who understands the words, “until death do us part.”