Anniversaries
It was always going to be difficultEarly February, 2024, was always going to be a difficult time.
3 days in a row
Throwback to the old me
The need to write
Lessons
3 days in a row
Throwback to the old me
The need to write
Lessons
Early February, 2024, was always going to be a difficult time.
And thus it proved to be.
The 2nd, 3rd and 4th of February are anniversaries.
The 2nd is the date in 2020 that Jessica and I first slept together. We weren’t intimate. We didn’t even cuddle. We literally just slept in the same bed. King size. The sleeping arrangements were the most sensible at the time. It wasn’t as simple as just being sensible, though. Beneath the surface – barely – unspoken, I was a cauldron of emotions. Ecstatic to be sleeping next to Jessica, determined not to betray the trust that I wouldn’t get up to any hanky panky. Really keen to not snore, so I stayed awake as long as I could.
Jessica, too, had her own feelings, but kept them hidden. In the subsequent years, I never asked about them. Other events took precedence, although it’s a small part of the overall tapestry I would like to have seen.
The 3rd is the date in 2020 that Jessica took a leap of faith that forged our partnership.
The 2nd is also the date, in 2023, of our marriage.
The 4th is the date, in 2023, that Jessica left this world. →
I didn’t want to face the incoming.
In the lead up to these dates in 2024, I found myself thinking about each of them much of the time. In a throwback to the Tim of old, I didn’t want to be around people. I just wanted to spend the time quietly reflecting in solitude. I didn’t want to have to read or respond to the calls, emails, or – worst of all – texts from well-meaning friends that might come in. I knew they would come. I’d already received an early text from someone who acknowledged that this time would be difficult and would be there if I needed to talk.
I also received an email from someone warning me to get the tissues ready. I didn’t read it, but planned to do so on the 4th.
So I spoke to a couple of friends in the lead up, telling them that I would be incommunicado for the three days. And on the 2nd, instead of taking my phone off its nightly airplane mode setting, I left it on. Neither did I check my emails, although I did log in to send a couple.
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Looking At Photographs
I spent much of the day looking at photographs of Jessica. Photos from her trip to France, photos I downloaded from her phone and photos of our wedding. There were a lot. But nowhere near enough. On her phone, I found a 30 second video she had made that I hadn’t seen. In that, I heard her voice again. Her cultured, beautifully modulated, oh-so-sexy accent.
On the 4th, I planned to look at the photos from our trips to Cairns, read that email from Di, read the many emails that we had sent to each other since 2015 that Jessica presciently decided to keep, devour everything on the JLux.guru website and watch again the slideshow I had made for my own memorial to Jessica. Had I realized how much there was, I would have started on the 3rd.
Sunday unfolded
The 4th being a Sunday, I started with market shopping. I took my keep cup – another of Jessica’s suggestions – and bought a Chai latté from Mem’s, then went and sat on the grass outside the pavilion.
This was a premeditated act. When Jessica came to the market with me, we would always get a coffee from Mem’s and often catch up with different people. I remember clearly sitting on that patch of grass one fine day. Jessica was wearing ¾ length pants.
As we chatted, I casually stroked her bare lower leg. It wasn’t something I did unconsciously. I was exploring the sensation and the contours in a very conscious way and it was very enjoyable. I wasn’t the only one, apparently, who enjoyed it.
That night in bed, Jessica was feeling frisky. She said that I started making love to her at the market by stroking her leg and it was time to continue. I had no idea that was what I had been doing, but I wasn’t going to question Jessica.
So I sat on the same patch of lawn with a drink from Mem’s and remembered the occasion.
Reading The Journal
When I got home from shopping, I started reading the JLux website. I only got partway through. I found reading the articles and associated comments drained me emotionally and I had to stop to recover some emotional energy. It is – to me – a wonderful journal of the period immediately after our partnership exploded into being, followed by our subsequent separation. The journal was Jessica’s idea, of course. She always kept a journal of things and encouraged me to do so for this period.
Although difficult at the time for both of us, I think being apart was so beneficial for us to be able to reflect on what was happening and what it meant. I opened up, making myself vulnerable as I had never done before and discovered the benefits of that. It really helped our relationship.
It Was Time To Write
Having paused my reacquaintance with the JLux website, I felt the need to write. I have always found writing to be both a release and a way of clarifying thoughts – one has to clarify thoughts to be able to express them to others. It also creates order. It makes sense of things, or puts them into context.
Catharsis
On this occasion, it is a catharsis, of sorts. One year on, I find myself still wallowing in grief. I’m not sure I will ever be able to make sense of what happened. That takes a level of comprehension above the existing human plane of which I am currently incapable and probably always will be. The incomprehensible is often reconciled through faith. Faith doesn’t explain things, but it does allow them to be resolved.
Gratitude
Despite the grief, I do have gratitude. It is yet another lesson learned from Jessica. I’m grateful for all her lessons. I’m grateful for meeting Jessica. I’m grateful Jessica reached out to me. I’m grateful for the opportunity of getting to know Jessica. I’m grateful for the time we had together. I’m grateful I loved her so unreservedly. I’m grateful she loved me. I’m grateful for her showing me how to be a better person.
I read someone say that the hole that is left when a loved one departs never gets smaller, but that we grow bigger around it. How do we grow bigger? Is emotional acceptance growth? Just two more questions to go with the many already existing. Jessica would know the answers.