December 28, 1952

I knew today would be the worst of the holiday season. All of the rest belongs to everyone. Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year's Eve, New Year's Day. Everyone gets a piece of those and has their own ways of celebrating them and you can distract yourself with that. But the 28th is singular.

Yesterday was a little creeping in of it. Which I knew would happen as well. We picked the date because of the 28th, afterall. I had dreamed of a Christmas wedding. Red velvet and fur muffs (faux, of course) and pine and maybe if we were lucky some snow. Which we got. But originally my thoughts had been to have it on the 28th. To get a little shine from their marriage on to mine. But the 28th was on a Sunday so we moved it back. Which worked out well. It kept the 28th just for them.

So I knew it would be hard today. Today is just for them.

I get tripped up on how to talk about it. Or at least since Dad died. Do you say would have been? Or is? When Mom was alive I would say is because she still held it in her heart and still felt as though she was married to Dad. The 'til death do us part thing being a temporary separation in her mind. Now with her being gone as well it's even more complicated. Do I revert strictly to would have been? Or is it solidly is now?

They were married 67 years ago. That's the basic. Celebrating isn't exactly right as they are both gone now so we aren't celebrating their anniversary. Just marking it.

The firsts are the worst. I know it. Everyone who has been through it knows it. The firsts are the worst.

And especially when things come in bunches like the holiday season. You can't really catch your breath. It wasn't terrible for me. Not really. I've talked about it, we moved away a long time ago. We've only celebrated a handful of times with the family since we were married. For the most part it's a quick phone call or text, a card sent, that's that. It's not part of our traditions to celebrate with Mom and Dad. But when Dad died it was hard. Because I knew Mom was alone. And I carried my loss with her grief. It was rough. Especially knowing that right after Christmas would be their anniversary. Now just hers. It was hard.

This year I've felt badly for my sister and middle brother and nephews that did celebrate with Mom every year. She was a part of their on going traditions. I've felt worse for them than for me. I've really been fine.

Mostly.

Up until we would be watching a holiday movie and they would go for the tear jerker moment and I would be staring at the ceiling trying to not cry. The grief was there. Just lower key.

But I could feel this one coming.

You can't avoid your parent's anniversary and pretend it's not a big deal. It's a big deal. Sort of the founding moment of your family history. So...

I knew today would be hard.

But I am comforted knowing that it's hard for me this year not for Mom. This year is the first year since Dad died that she isn't marking her anniversary without him there with her. I will hold that all day. She's no longer alone.

Happy anniversary to my parents. Sixty seven years ago they started their lives together and it's still one of the greatest love stories I've ever known.

I miss them both.