Something’s just occurred to me. When I got married to Sawan, I made these huge, lofty promises, the ones we all make, to love him, honor him, cherish him. I promised to take care of him in sickness and health, for better or worse, till death do us part. My death. That’s what I was thinking when I promised all that stuff to him. So naive.
I really promised him so much more by saying those words. I didn’t know what I was vowing. It’s like I’ve finally looked at the vows with the widow glasses, too. Everything is bigger with widow glasses. Souls, love, pain. Now I’m realizing the gravity of what I promised him. I promised to grieve him. What I thought I was promising is so small compared to what this is. I didn’t know that by vowing those things I was signing on for this, for widowhood. If I had a “do over” I’d still do it. He was worth it.