Joe's first wife died of Non Hodgekins Lymphoma. At the age of 31.
Joe was 29.
I'd never met anyone who was a widower at such a young age.
My heart broke for him when I heard his story.
And then we got married and I found myself fighting that same green monster that I faced with Doug and Tess.
Only this time, it wasn't a relationship that went sour...it was a relationship cruelly ended before its time.
I didn't know how to process that. I knew that if Stacy hadn't gotten sick, she and Joe would most likely still be together.
He didn't choose to leave her.
And it was such a sad story.
From the time she was diagnosed until she passed was only 7 months.
Not very long to tell the person you love most all the things you want to tell them.
Most of that time was spent in treatment and a good part at the end was with Stacy heavily sedated.
I felt like I was in competition with her memory.
I felt like her memory would always loom in the background.
From the Live Strong bracelet he always wears to the tattoo on his leg with her initials, I thought, "She'll always be here with us."
As with all things I am obsessed with, I asked Joe lots of questions about her.
He didn't mind...in fact he said that no one really talked about her that much anymore. Maybe because they were afraid of making him sad by bringing it up?
I think it was helpful for both of us.
One night I told him that I was feeling insecure and that I'd never been with someone whose spouse died.
He said, "I've never watched anyone die before."
Perepective.
Instead of feeling like I was in competition, I started trying to integrate her into the marriage in certain ways.
We started visiting the cemetery regularly and even took our oldest with us.
That's the first place the baby giggled.
He laughed right out loud.
Such a strange sound to hear at a cemetery: the beautiful sound of a baby's laughter.
From then on when one of the babies laughs, we say maybe Stacy's telling them jokes.
For a while when our 2nd child was still in a crib, we'd hear him in bed chatting up a storm and laughing.
When I asked him who he was talking to, he said, "Stacy."
We had a weird instance one night after we tucked our oldest in for bed. We kissed him goodnight, turned off the light and left the door oopen a little.
A few minutes later I went upstairs and noticed that the light was on in his room.
Naturally, I got all freaked out and called Joe upstairs. I asked him if he'd left the light on.
But I know he couldn't have. I was the last one out of the room and I remember very clearly peeking back in and seeing the baby laying down. In the dark.
We just chalked it up to Stacy keeping the light on for him, but who knows.
I've finally come to a place where I don't feel insecure with her memory.
I like to hear stories about her.
And Joe appreciates remembering her.
I just try to imagine if the tables were turned, I'd want the love of my life to remember me.
So fast forward to where we are today.
We're happy and taking one day at a time.
We have our struggles juts like anyone, but this is by far the healthiest relationship I've ever been in.
We're friends. We have each other's backs.
Yes, sometimes...okay often... we fight. Even yell at each other.
But this is it.
It's not necessarily how I would have written my story if given the opportunity to choose the way my life went, but I can't imagine changing a thing. Even the bad stuff.
I am who I am because of it. All of it.
I think I have a heart of compassion and empathy because of it.
I'm a survivor. *Cue Destiny's Child*
I've had the absolute best time writing this blog.
And your feedback has just been amazing.
I'm sad to be up to date.
But there will be one more post. A wrap-up of sorts.
Thanks for hanging with me for so long. I've enjoyed the ride.
