April 30th

Twenty-seven years ago today, two young people were married. At the time, they didn't know that they were making the biggest mistake of their lives. This seemingly harmless action resulted in three years of awkward arrangements, a child, and eventually a suicide.

But at the time, neither of them knew what the future would hold. They were just happy to be together, finally finalizing the love they felt for each other. Once they were married, they went on their honeymoon to Tahiti, not realizing that the fun, traditional trip to a tropical location was the beginning of the end. How could they, when they were so happy to be together?

It wasn't as though they fought, no it was the opposite. They got along so well that they should have seen the warning signs. No one can possibly be that happy together, not without making some sacrifices. While they were on their holiday, they spent money and spent so much time together that it's a miracle that they didn't burn out. They planned out their entire life while they were there- in a year they would have their first child and the woman would quit working, hopefully before too long they would have a second child, they would eventually move out of the depressing inner-city apartment they lived in and would get a nice house somewhere in the suburbs. In a few years, when the children were in middle school, the woman would go back to work and they would save money to put their kids through university.

Unfortunately, real life doesn't work out that way. The woman's grandmother needed someone to care for her, so she moved in with the couple, which put a bit of a strain on their relationship. Two years after they were married, the woman had an extremely difficult pregnancy resulting in a rather unhealthy baby- a little girl. She quit her job to take care of the child and her grandmother- both needed a lot of medical appointments. Slowly, her mental stamina started to wither away, until two years after she bore her sickly daughter, she shot herself.

In case you haven't figured it out now, the young man and woman were my parents. And in case you're particularly dim, the baby was me. Today would have been their 27th wedding anniversary, if my mother was still alive. It's a difficult day for me, especially because in three days is the anniversary of my great-grandmother's death. Usually today passes by unmarked, except for maybe getting some hugs and extra snacks from my coworkers, who know how painful this week is for me. Today, though, my dad called. Which isn't particularly unusual- he calls me a couple of times a month. But today he called me, just wanting to hear that I was doing well. It made me sad, to be quite honest. I wish my dad didn't have to feel this way every year.

Anyway, that's why I haven't been posting much lately. I've just been thinking a lot, about what happened, and how things might be different if my mom hadn't died. On Sunday I am going to visit my great-grandmother's grave and tidy it, which I do every year on the anniversary of her death and her birthday. I tidy my mother's on Mother's Day and the anniversary of her death.