The biggest difference I experienced when I married the ear doctor came as a total shock. One day I was fine with him leaving, driving all over town, never checking in and the next I wasn't. Suddenly I was concerned about his safety at all times, in all places, and in all things.
After our wedded union I found that the first thought that entered my mind after our apartment door shut behind me was, "will I ever see him again?" or "what will I do if he dies today?" or "is my number his emergency contact in his cell phone...just in case the EMTs need to call me quickly."
Cheery, I know.
And I think it was because I knew that we were in this life together, for the long haul.
Which is probably why as I drove down to Chipotle for lunch today I wasn't really annoyed at the throngs of people slowing the flow of traffic to a pathetic ebb. They were dressed head to toe in pink, walking for courage, walking for strength, walking for people affected by breast cancer. Some were in tutus and most had bright pink energizer bunny ears on their heads. And seeing how happy and motivated these people were made me smile from ear to ear.
Until the portly fellow walking all alone passed by my front bumper carrying a flag that he'd made that read, "in loving memory of my wife."
It gripped me.
Even as I pulled up to the restaurant and stood in line it had me thinking about grief and loss. A bit emotional, I placed my order for my delicious chicken burrito and waited. The young guy in front of me spoke Spanish to the cashier, and, as a result earned himself a free soda.
It was just too much for my little heart to take.
Not only was I terrified and filled with grief at the thought of loosing my ear doctor, but annoyed that if he'd been there to spout off my order in his perfect fluent Spanish I'd be getting my diet coke for FREE today.