November 11. Remembrance Day. And I’m remembering. For all the wrong reasons...
It was 27 months ago today that my world was knocked off its axis. And in a cruel trick of fate, today I reach another milestone.
Kurt lived 12 816 days on this earth. Today is my 12 817th.
He was born two years before me. And I am now officially older than my older husband will ever be...
I look in the mirror today, and don’t see someone who is old. Not by society’s standards anyway. But I feel old. Not only because of what I have weathered, what I have endured. But because I intimately know that I am old enough to die...
How did Kurt feel that day when he looked in the mirror? Like a young man, ready to take on the rest of his life? Or a young man knowing this was the last day of his?
I can’t really get my head around the fact that I am now older than he will ever be. That his life really was that short. Or that my days really are that numbered. All I know is that I will wake up tomorrow – on my 12 818th day, and on the day following, and so on and so forth. Gradually aging in a manner Kurt was never allowed to.
Many years from now, I will look in the mirror at an old – or at least much older woman – and still see my husband as a young man. Frozen in time. Stuck in his 30s.
Will he still want me when our paths do cross again? Me, an old woman who has lived out her life. Him, a young man, who was never given that opportunity?
Its just another day I never thought would come. That I am trying to make sense of.
12 816 days. It really isn’t that long. I wonder how much older I will be, how many more days I have, until I am finally again with him.....
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