My lovely late wife

Today was supposed to be the day where Angele and I would celebrate our 8th anniversary. Instead, this morning I went to the school concert of the children, alone, and then later had a meeting with their therapist on how they are coping with the loss of their mother. Not what we imagined 8 years ago.

It was beautiful this morning though, to see these little warriors, ready to perform in front of a crowd full of parents. Standing there, with a semi-neutral half-nervous face scanning that crowd for a familiar face. The instant heart-warming most beautiful smile the moment they recognize me... Heart warming and heart braking at the same time.

These days are hitting me hard. Birthdays, anniversaries, other celebrations like mother's day. Parent meetings at school. Concerts. The things we expected to be doing together, celebrate together. Instead I need to face them alone, in my own way, which is something I am still figuring out.

The memories are beautiful, yet also a reminder of what is, and what isn't. Last Saturday we had a nice party for Tobias' 5th birthday. In the fields in Mgarr, with a direct view of the church (where we got married) and Castello Zamittello (where we had our party) with in the distance Gnejna bay (our favorite beach, and wedding pic location). Beautiful memories, it was a magnificent day 8 years ago. In sickness and health, as the priest said 8 years ago.

And I am struggling these last few weeks. I have been doing this single-parenting thing for over 2 years now; mid May 2023 is when the brain seizures started. It is tough at times.

While writing this, a million thoughts are crossing my mind. What can I share, what do I want to share? The little moments, the big moments, how they make me feel? There's this one joke I have had in the back of my mind for months now, but it feels so inappropriate to ambush someone with this during a normal conversation! I think I have said it before; going through rough and tough times can make jokes land a bit different. Imagine being on the other side of this conversation, I wouldn't even know how to respond. Good thing of writing it down then, I guess. So here goes:

So, this is not a real conversation, just one I've played in my head. Imagine someone asking me about how I ended up living in Malta. To which I would say: "my wife, she was Maltese. Actually, since she passed away nearly 2 years ago I should say 'my late wife'." People usually respond with that they're sorry to hear that. And then, I'd say, with a big grin: "Oh it's ok, she was Maltese, I was already used to her being late."

I am laughing right now at my own silliness, with tears rolling down my cheeks at the same time. Brilliant, inappropriate, painful, and true. She was even late for our wedding, but that was on purpose to give everyone else who was late a chance to arrive in time...

Angele, my lovely late wife, oh how I wish you could be late one more time...