Maybe it’s a sign?

So, I have officially posted all the entries I had in my widowhood diary from the beginning. Now it’s just me and my current musings and ramblings from here on out. I doubt I’ll be posting as frequently as I used to, but I will try to write something at least once a week. That starts today!

Today is Will and my wedding anniversary. It’s Saturday, we both have the day off, and we’ve mostly just stayed around the house and relaxed. It’s been a wonderful, laid back day. For dinner we decided to splurge at a nice local restaurant we’ve never been to but have heard great things about. As we were getting seated, it occurred to me that the atmosphere of this place was very similar to that of the restaurant Brandon and I went to on our last anniversary dinner. Even the table’s seating arrangement was the same: a couple of chairs with a wraparound booth. Will and I both slid into the booth so we could sit next to each other, me on the left, him on the right.  My thoughts drifted to the last anniversary dinner Brandon and I went to…this was exactly how we sat almost five years ago.

Usually, whenever I’m doing something and a vivid Brandon memory swims up, I get sad and feel a twinge of pain. That didn’t happen today. I recognized the similarities between tonight and that night, and I didn’t feel sad. The memory of the last anniversary we celebrated washed over me and I did not feel pain or sadness. It stunned me. I remembered how we talked about what we would do on our 10th anniversary, if we should do something super special, since we already made it half way there. I remember saying that it didn’t feel like we’ve been together 5 years, that time flew by so fast, that I was looking forward to another 5 years. He smiled and said he was too. Five weeks from that night he’d be dead.

That’s how it is now…Brandon is always there, in my thoughts, in my memories. He comes up constantly during my daily life. I hear a song and I think of him. I smell the cologne he used to wear and I think of him. Someone says something and it reminds me of some memory with him. I see something at the grocery store he loved and I think of him. He is constantly there; he is always just at the surface of my thoughts. And after all these years of tears and pain, I have come to the conclusion that it’s okay. I’m glad he’s always nearby, even if he’s just memories now. He will always have a place in my life, in my heart. Yes, I am married again. I am happy again, with someone who is not Brandon. And that’s okay too. Widowhood is such a crappy, crappy thing…we should all grab the chance to be happy again. If you find something that makes you smile and mean it, hold onto it. The truly wonderful thing is that my husband understands Brandon’s place in my life and he is completely supportive.

Anyway, as I’m sitting there at the table tonight thinking about all of this, our waiter comes by. He gives the spiel about their specials, smiles, and says that his name is Brandon and that he’s looking forward to taking care of us. Now, I’m not one to believe in signs. I’m just not. I’ve always been practically minded. I have read numerous accounts by widows and widowers about the signs they’ve seen from their loved ones. I have genuinely smiled and felt happy for the warmth and comfort those signs brought them. But I never saw any signs from Brandon. Who knows, maybe I just wasn’t looking hard enough? But this, tonight, for the first time, felt like a sign. The waiter’s name being Brandon right after I was just thinking back to that last anniversary we had, immediately felt like maybe, just maybe, wherever Brandon is now, maybe he is happy for the way my life has turned out after his death. At least I’d like to think so.