JUST ANOTHER DAY
AND A CELEBRATION
A Widow Bit – April 13, 2008

By Mary Koch

            Another “first” slid past so easily, I wonder if I should feel guilty.

            Twenty-nine years ago last Monday, I was riding in the passenger seat of my Volkswagen van, staring at the stranger in the driver’s seat and wondering, “Who the heck is that guy?” John and I were headed to Gloria Dei Lutheran Church in Olympia, Wash., to be married.

            For months I’d been certain I could not continue life without him, but when the day dawned, so did the pre-nup jitters. I married the stranger anyway, and he kept the mystique alive by continually reinventing himself throughout our marriage – especially after his stroke.

            I don’t believe John would have minded that I was too busy Monday to give our anniversary much thought. We weren’t particularly sentimental about anniversaries. At the risk of sounding oh-so-precious, we celebrated our marriage on a daily basis; we didn’t need to make a big deal of it once a year. Not that I’d claim our marriage was perfect. We had our moments, but the storms tended to blow over the horizon pretty quickly.

            I especially enjoy recalling the anniversary that occurred while we were visiting Korea in 1982. John had arranged, with the help of Congressman Tom Foley, a tour of the Demilitarized Zone between North and South Korea. “You want to go WHERE?” I’d said, skeptically.

            It wasn’t until we were signing the papers, clearing the U.S. government of responsibility if the North Koreans took aim at us, that we noticed it was our anniversary! We had a good laugh, agreeing that any number of married couples might benefit from spending time in a proverbial DMZ.

            I devoted my first anniversary without John to taking care of chores for my mother in Tacoma as she begins a long recuperation after falling and breaking her neck. By evening, friends Jean and Phil encouraged me to take time out and have dinner at their house.

            “I told Phil, this is our anniversary dinner,” Jean announced when I arrived. Their anniversary happened to be the next day. Jean had purchased crab cakes from one of Tacoma’s better fish markets, and I knew John would’ve approved. He would have seen nothing peculiar, either, about having a threesome for an anniversary dinner. We had the kind of marriage where there was always room for others.

            So it was another not-very-romantic anniversary but also not-very-sad.

            It appears the coming months will include numerous trips back and forth to Tacoma as I take on a different kind of caregiver role. Concerned friends have advised me to follow the path that John would have me take. I think they mean, go out and have a lot of fun. Caregiving isn’t fun, exactly, but it is a wondrous joy.

            I’m following a route dictated by my own heart. To do anything else would be to admit that John took my heart with him, and I know for sure that’s not at all what he intended.

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