I spend all month dreading this day. Now it’s here and it’s suspiciously like all the others. I got up before dawn to feed the ponies and clean stalls. Then I swept the kitchen. And took Bowie for a hike. Now, like every other day, I’m settled on the couch ready to work.
So why is today so different?
Of course it’s the thirty-sixth anniversary of Robbie’s death. But what about all the other days in the year? Do I miss him more on September 30th? I don’t think that’s possible. I miss him every day. I used to think that the more time that went by, the easier it would get. I specifically remember the nineteenth anniversary. I thought that because I had then lived without him for as long as I had lived with him, it would somehow make it better. But all it did was remind me that I’d spent half my life missing him.
Then there was the twenty-second anniversary. Now he’d been gone as long as he was alive. Would that somehow be the salve I needed? Nope. It was just a stark reminder of how very young he was and how much more life he had to give. That was a particularly hard one.
Today we’re at thirty-six years. No remarkable milestone. Just the reminder that Robbie’s been gone almost two-thirds of my life. That’s a long time to be without the person who was supposed to be at my wedding and hold my kids when they were born. It’s an eternity when I know that his plan was to marry Debbie and move back home to raise their kids. Coop and Ainsley should have cousins that they’ll never know. I should be meeting Debbie for coffee and dog walks every morning. Robbie and Debbie should be coming over for Sunday football and Friday night dinners. That’s a long time to not live the life that was supposed to be mine.
But then there is the life I have, the one I love so much. I’ve spent thirty-six years missing my brother. But I’ve also spent thirty years loving and being loved by the best man I know. And twenty-two years being a mother. Twelve years being a novelist. Forty-six years being a best friend and having a best friend. And fifty-five years being me.
So as I sit here writing this, on an overcast day that is similar to the Monday morning my mother, Ricky and grandmother came to school to tell me that Robbie was gone, I can’t think about just my loss when I have children who are the light in my life and a husband who is my great love and friends who prop me up when I feel like falling down.
I am grateful every day for Kurt, Cooper and Ainsley. I am grateful to the friends I talk to on the phone every week and the ones I meet for coffee and hikes. I am grateful to Ricky for being my anchorage when so much of our family is gone. I am so very grateful for the ponies who live in our yard and just want love and animal crackers. I am grateful to Robbie for introducing me to Debbie and leading me to a friendship that will last forever. I am also grateful to him for letting me experience this grief and loss. For had there not been great love, there wouldn’t be great pain.