It would have been 22 years

November 16, 1984. That's the date of our anniversary. Today would have been 22 years of marriage if Danny had survived the cancer.

I'm not exactly sure how I'll feel all day. Some days I still feel like this is all a terrible dream and I just need to wake up. Other days, it's abundantly clear that it's real, which doesn't comfort me much.

The other day, some co-workers were talking about marriage. Some were saying "never". Others were saying "never again." I stepped up and said I didn't think marriage was so bad. I liked being married to Danny. It was good to have a friend I could trust with my thoughts, and a prayer partner. I loved my part in the marriage of keeper at home and mother and submitted wife. The general manager said, "Well, you two were soul-mates. That's hard to find."

I guess she's right, since it seems so many marriages are tossed by the wayside these days. But the truth is, marriage is hard work for two people, and they have to remain completely committed to the survival of the marriage at all times. They have to swallow their pride more times than not, and they have to be willing to give whatever of themselves is necessary to keep the marriage intact. It's not 50-50. It's 100% all the time for both the husband and the wife.

You don't meet halfway, you go the full length of the course...plus more. Unless you are willing to be that committed, then you have doomed your marriage to certain failure. I guess that's what "soulmates" means after all, isn't it? Not that we were destined to be married, although we could have been. It's that we were married and we made decisions to keep staying married and not give up.

But now, nearly a year later, I'm sitting here without him. I miss him every single day. There's no filling the gap that he's left, nor is there any plastic surgery around that will cover the Danny-shaped scar in my heart.