September 27 is the happiest and saddest day of the year for me. The happiest, because that is my wedding anniversary. The saddest, because William, my husband of 46 years, is no longer here to share it. I dreaded my anniversary the year after he died. There’d be no card from him proclaiming our love.
To say William was the love of my life is no exaggeration. We met in our Ohio town when he was 11 and I was 9. I was playing ball with some friends and threw a ball through a window in his house. We became best friends after that, and then childhood sweethearts.
For a while, fate seemed to separate us. William joined the Navy, and was stationed in San Diego. But just as quickly it drew us together again. First, my grandmother moved to San Diego. Then William’s mother moved there, to be close to her son. Finally, my mother decided we should move there, too. She wanted to be near her mother – my grandmother.
One day I decided to visit William’s mom, to see how my old boyfriend was doing. William just happened to be there. The instant we set eyes on each other, we fell head-over-heels in love. A year later we married. A year after that we had our first child. Two more followed, and eventually we were blessed with nine grandchildren.
In the days and months after William died, I somehow struggled to get by. Until the day of our anniversary. I woke up that morning and resolved to keep myself occupied throughout the day. Anything to take my mind off William. I ran errands, talked on the phone to friends, straightened up the house. Late in the afternoon I got so desperate for something to do, I moved an old bookcase so I could sweep under it.
What’s that? There was some kind of paper lying on the floor. I picked it up.
It was a card. I opened it up. “Happy Anniversary, my dearest Marion,” it read. An anniversary card William had given me the year before. I thought it had been thrown away.
But here it was, on our anniversary. I placed it on the dining room table, just as he had always done. William was still with me. And so was his love.
