It’s my wedding anniversary.
It’s complicated when a birthday comes around for someone who’s not here anymore, and it’s complicated when a wedding date arrives after a spouse has died.
This is the post I wrote two years ago:
I wish I could take credit for this post’s title, but it belongs to an upcoming biography of writer David Foster Wallace. I would have been inclined to rearrange the sentiment: isn’t nearly every ghost story a love story?
Two nights ago, on Jim’s and my wedding anniversary, my best woman and I had a fairly extended (and only slightly margarita-fueled) discussion about the nature of ghosts and about Jim’s constant presence with me.
This conversation wandered off into how I might introduce Jim, for clarity’s sake, to newcomers to my psyche and situation.
I cannot bring myself to say “my late husband,” and there have…
View original post 832 more words