For Everything There is a Season

"In order to write about life, first you must live it." ~ Ernest Hemingway

Category: love (Page 2 of 4)

Our Wedding Vows

September 12, 2013 / / 0 Comments

During my fall cleaning this week I came across our wedding vows. I thought it was quite appropriate since we are leaving in thirteen days for our honeymoon. Looking at each of our vows on paper is interesting because it reflects each of our personalities, especially in the length. It was also interesting because I think I didn’t take all that much longer to recite my vows because I talked so much faster!Enjoy.

Chuck’s Wedding Vows:

Christine, you are the one for whom I waited and I take you as my wife today, my lifelong friend, love, and partner.

I promise to support you in all that you do, to encourage you, and to try and inspire you.

I promise to care for you when you need it and to let you take care of me when I’m in need.

I promise to try to make you laugh, and try harder not to make you cry.

I promise to always listen to your questions and concerns, and to try really hard to respond to them in a timely fashion.

I promise to always appreciate how lucky I am, to love you, and to show that love to you each and every day, in the winter as well as the summer, and on rainy days as well as sunny ones, forever.

All I have, all that I am, all that I will be, is yours.

Chris’s Wedding Vows

Love by Roy Croft
I love you not only for what you are but for what I am when I am with you.
I love you not only for what you have made of yourself but for what you are making of me.
I love you for the part of me that you bring out.
I love you for putting your hand into my heaped-up heart
And passing over all the foolish, weak things that you can’t help dimly seeing there
And for drawing out into the light all the beautiful belongings that no one else had looked quite far enough to find.
I love you because you are helping me to make of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern, but a temple.
Out of the works of my every day
Not a reproach, but a song.
I love you because you have done more than any creed could have done to make me good
And more than any fate could have done to make me happy.
You have done it without a touch, without a word, without a sign.
You have done it by being yourself.

So I Christine, take you Chuck, to be my husband. For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health. On this day I promise to be faithful and true to you and only you.

I promise to step outside of myself in order to meet your needs and our needs as a couple.

I also promise to never interrupt or start a conversation during a Celtics play-off game. But only the play off games.

I promise you that I will never take our love for granted.

I promise, from this day forward, to never ever complain about you messing up my bed pillows at night, when all you want to do is be close to me.

I promise that whenever necessary, I will put your children’s needs before my own.

I promise to treat your children and their sisters with the same amount of caring and respect that you treat them with.

I promise to trust you implicitly and without reservation.

I promise to always be your best friend. The person you can count on to confide in and to lift you up when you are down. I will be the gentle hand in the middle of the night and your port in every storm. I promise to do my best to make the rest of our lives together full of joy and laughter. I will always honor our marriage and I will love you all the days of my life.

Why I Am Not Mrs. Myers

June 8, 2013 / / 4 Comments

Not too long ago I posted on this blog’s Facebook page that I was not going to be changing my last name when I got married. I had varied responses to that news and differing opinions not to what I should do, but to what others would do. It was very interesting to hear various viewpoints on this issue.

Since I got married May 18th, it has become quite apparent to me how many people, those who didn’t see that Facebook post, have naturally assumed that I am now Mrs. Myers (my husband’s last name) or Christine Myers. Technically, Mrs. means “the wife of” and I take absolutely no offense to that. I am his wife and very proud of that fact.

I have done a lot of reading on this subject, mostly because I truly struggled with the decision and because it interests me as to why some women change their birth name when they get married and why some don’t. According to the Huffington Post in an article posted April, 2013, only 8% of women now keep their last name after marriage. This is down from 23% in the 1990’s. Although it appears that as a woman who kept her birth name I am in the minority, I don’t think any woman really takes that decision making process lightly.

My name history is as follows. I was born Christine Jeanne Molloy. My dad picked out my first name. My middle name is my mother’s first name. My last name is an Irish surname that represents my grandfather’s family who originally migrated from Ireland to Newfoundland and finally to Massachusetts. When I married my first husband in 2000, I changed my middle name to my birth name (Molloy) and assumed my ex-husband’s last name. By the time we separated in 2008, I was counting the days until I resumed my birth name once again. The biggest reason for that was because I felt that in the years I was married, I lost my identity and I regretted ever changing it in the first place.

When Chuck, my current husband, and I were discussing this issue months ago, he made it very clear that it was my choice. I struggled with the issue enormously because I could make a case to go in either direction. There was a part of me that wanted to take his last name so that we would be identified as a married couple. At first I thought that taking his name would represent our togetherness and our love.

Although I believe in women’s rights, I am not a woman who would be considered a staunch feminist. One of the arguments that is made about women who do change their name when they marry is that if a woman does change her surname, it implies she belongs to a man or another person. That we, as women, need to keep our name in order to not lose our independence. I read that in an article; more than one article actually. I disagree with the fact that changing your name causes you to lose your independence. I also disagree with the fact that changing your name implies you belong to a man. Because no matter what your choice is in regards to your name, the fact is you DO belong to another person when you marry them. Not in a possessive way but in a commitment way. My heart belongs to my husband and just as much, his belongs to me. It has nothing to do with what names we choose to go by.

OK, so then why did I decide to keep my name? Because to start with, it’s my name. I am Christine Jeanne Molloy. The person who with all her strengths and weaknesses, is a person who is proud of who she is. Christine Myers didn’t graduate from nursing school. Christine Molloy did. Christine Myers didn’t survive cancer. Christine Molloy sure as hell did though. Some people might be asking now then, why did I change my name the first time I got married? Because I was 29 years old then, not 42. A lot of how I think changed during those years and I thank god for that.

I did have someone ask me before I got married if I thought I was afraid to change my last name again because of how lousy my first marriage, especially since I was so eager to get my birth name back. I did seriously think about that question because when you are marrying for the second time and the divorce rate for second marriages is around 60%, you need to be honest with yourself and make sure you are carrying as little baggage into a marriage as possible. What I realized was that if I had never been married before, I still wouldn’t change my name now. It’s not fear, just a different viewpoint.

I joked with Chuck when we were having this name change conversation about why couldn’t the expectation be that the man changes his last name? I never in a million years thought he would consider that. But he surprised me. He said that if he didn’t have children who shared his last name that maybe he would consider the possibility. However after I thought about it some more, I realized that for all the same reasons I wanted to keep my surname, so would I want him to keep his. It is who he is and it is where he comes from. I would never want to change that.

This last name issue is my personal decision. I know people who have kept their birth name, have assumed their spouse’s name, have hyphenated the two names, have used two names, and who have completely changed their name. I have no issue with any of those decisions. I don’t disagree and honestly, it doesn’t even matter to me. What does matter to me is how I feel about who I am. Once we stop worrying about other’s people’s choices and focus on our own decisions, the world becomes a much better place to live in.

I did a bit of reading this morning about this issue because one of the questions that was presented to me is how should I be identified in say, correspondence for example? For me, anyone that bothers to send us correspondence, such as an invitation, will not be scrutinized. According to various websites the proper format is to address us as follows:

Ms. Christine Molloy and Mr. Charles Myers

Apparently the woman’s name always comes first and the “and” is important. The “and” indicates that the couple is married. If the couple was not married, their names would be listed in a column format like this:

Ms. Christine Molloy
Mr. Charles Myers

So what would happen if someone sent us an invitation or piece of mail that looked like this?

Mr. and Mrs. Charles Myers

That’s great! While my name is not Christine Myers, I am “the wife of” Charles Myers so no, I wouldn’t have a hissy fit. Because most likely, someone just didn’t know about my decision to keep my name. And again, I am the “wife of”. It would be funny though if we received mail that looked like this:

Mr. and Mrs. Christine Molloy

Throughout this process I have learned that the name I have in no way represents the strength or quality of the love I have for my husband. Anyone who was at our wedding ceremony for at least 30 seconds would have seen that with their own eyes. I have also learned that when I listen hard enough to my own gut, the answers are right there. The day we went to apply for our marriage license there was a space that said “surname after marriage” or something to that effect. I realized that I had not 100% made a decision in my mind before we went to the town hall. And then it happened. My heart said to write Molloy and before I even had a chance to question it, my pen was on the paper writing the letters that have forever known to be a representation of who I am: Christine Jeanne Molloy.

Photo Courtesy of: irishsurnames.com

Our Wedding Ceremony

May 24, 2013 / / 12 Comments

“I promise to always be your best friend. The person you can count on to confide in and to lift you up when you are down. I will be the gentle hand in the middle of the night and your port in every storm. I promise to do my best to make the rest of our lives together full of joy and laughter. I will always honor our marriage and I will love you all the days of my life.” ~ Me
  
 
May 18, 2013

Until that day, I never believed that there was such a thing as a perfect day. I wasn’t looking for perfection. At some points in the seventeen months preceding that day, I was just looking to make it to the day in one piece.
 
Until that day, I never believed it was possible to live so fully in the moment that my mind could be free of any other thoughts.
 
Until that day, I never quite fully understood the magnitude of the love that surrounds my husband and I.
 
May 18, 2013 was our wedding day. For those of you who know me or follow my blog on a regular basis, you know that it was no small feat to get to this day. 2012-early 2013 plagued my husband Chuck and I with crisis after crisis; from me being almost paralyzed and then developing life threatening blood clots in my lungs to the illness and death of Chuck’s mother. There was also a lot of other bad stuff in between. Yet despite those events, we continued to plan our wedding day. We felt it was important to celebrate our love with those in our lives. We had made a decision to split up the ceremony and reception into two separate events to make it more manageable with my autoimmune illness. The reception is still to come on June 1st.
 
 
I have always been a big believer in the fact that it is the marriage, and not the wedding itself, that is the priority. Keeping that attitude in mind, I approached May 18th with a fierce determination to not allow myself, or us as a couple, to lose sight of the significance of what we were doing. And like all weddings, there were issues. Due to ending a friendship, I lost a bridesmaid two months before the wedding. There was a phone call less than 72 hours before the wedding that none of the flowers I had picked out for the groom and groomsmen were available. People I was expecting and hoping would attend were either unable to attend for various reasons or made a choice not to attend.  But when I woke up that morning at 5:30am, none of it mattered. What did matter was that by 1:45pm, this man whom I love with every fiber of my being, was going to be my husband.
 
 
I will admit, the day before was tough on me physically. Everything went very well; we got the church parish hall dining room set up like we wanted for the dessert and coffee hour we were having after the ceremony and the rehearsal/rehearsal dinner went off without a hitch. But the day was a busy one and we were both exhausted. Chuck spent that night at a hotel because he knew it was important to me that we not see each other before the ceremony the next morning. My friend Nicole, who was a bridesmaid, stayed overnight with me but unfortunately I was too exhausted when we got home at 9pm from the rehearsal dinner to even be social. Sorry Nicole!
 
 
The next morning found me spending three hours at a salon with Nicole and my maid-of-honor, Chuck’s daughter Stephanie. It was a beautiful day out. 73 degrees and sunny with a slight breeze. I was a bit nervous, probably more from anticipation than anything else. I truly enjoyed this time at the salon with them and their excitement was evident. They were amazing as they ensured that every single detail was attended to and I honestly felt that if something bad went down, it would be handled. By the time we got to the church, ten minutes before the start of the ceremony, my nervousness had dissipated and I was excited to see Chuck.
 

 I was having a small issue with my dress and we changed our plans and got to the church earlier than planned. Because it was not yet 1pm, we went to the parish hall to recheck my dress issue and wait. Our parish hall is across the parking lot from the church and I was standing in a room looking out the window to the church and parking lot. It was such a surreal experience to watch our guests come in. Everyone looked so happy. I mean, seriously happy. I stood there and wondered – how did I get so blessed?
 
Chuck and I had put in a lot of thought and effort into the ceremony itself. We wanted it to be personal and we wanted it to convey our love to those in attendance. The ceremony started off by Nicole and Stephanie going down the aisle, escorted by my brother Dennis and one of our friends, Lou. The song was Can You Feel The Love Tonight? by Elton John. Then came a moment we had kept secret from as many people as possible. Chuck played and sang Marry Me by Train as I came down the aisle. It was such a beautiful moment. The guitar chords can be a bit tricky and I know he had been working on the song for months. He did such a great job and I honestly don’t know how either one of us got through the song. It was amazing to see the faces of our loved ones as I walked down the aisle. It was amazing to see my stoic dad with tears in his eyes.



Smiles.
Tears.
Joy.


Since the ceremony, I have had several people mention one word to me and that is: radiant. People thought I looked radiant. The thing is, I felt radiant. At the risk of sounding arrogant I am going to mention that although we only have a small portion of our photos back, there is not a bad photo of me because so far, there is not one where I am not smiling. I just felt so content, so blessed, and so at peace. Funny how true love can do that.


We began to progress through our ceremony. We each had written our own vows. We had asked a couple that we are good friends with, and who have been married for 39 years, to speak about marriage during the ceremony. Our friend, Tom, sang You Raise Me Up during communion. Communion is not an event that many people in our faith incorporate into their wedding ceremony but it was important to us. We elected to present communion to our guests ourselves so I held the (gluten-free!) bread and Chuck held the wine (aka grape juice). Although I had cried before this point while I was saying my vows, it was communion that almost did me in. One of the first people to come up was my Auntie Helen and she was bawling. I could feel her love for us through her tears. And getting to see everyone as they came to the communion table was overwhelming because of the genuine joy and love on their faces.

The ceremony finished up and we exited the church to the sounds of our friend Dan playing We Are Family on the piano. We rang the church bell on the way out.  A receiving line followed and then down to the parish hall dining room to spend time with our loved ones. It was wonderful to be able to see family and friends that I had not seen in a while. We got home around 4pm and immediately finished packing to go away for a few days. Our Disney honeymoon isn’t until September but we wanted to get away and decompress for a few days. That blog will be in the near future hopefully!


If I could sum up the entire day in one sentence I would say this: it was the best day of my entire life. Shocking considering that initially, I really wanted to elope! And I have had some amazing days: the day I graduated from nursing school, the day that Chuck proposed, the day that I found out I was cancer-free, and even the day I was married the first time. But right now May 18th is the best day. The main reason is because of the fact that the day represents that I found and have been blessed with this great love. The man that I feel privileged to spend the rest of my life with. On that day we outwardly got to celebrate our love and the union of our two lives and of our families. The day represented our willingness to work through difficult times and issues in order to commit ourselves, before God, to each other.



It was the best day because of the people who surrounded us and the wedding represented all of the support we have received both individually and as a couple from family, our church family, and our friends. I have so many snapshots in my memory bank of people. I have often told Chuck that when I am in a bad situation with my health and I am feeling down and sick, I often play back positive images in my head of good times we have had together and it helps to relax me and helps me to refocus my energy. Typically it is a memory of Chuck and I on the beach in Maine or some other happy time where I felt loved and safe.


The people in our lives have given me a new image.
The one from our wedding ceremony.
The one where I see their faces and feel their love.
The one where I hear words of joy and sounds of laughter.
The one where I feel an abundance of love, hope, joy, and peace.



I am grateful for this incredible day that we had together. I am grateful for every moment that I chose to not give up on true love. Most importantly, I am grateful for my husband and the beginning of the next chapter of our lives together.


Photos Courtesy of Susan SB Photography: https://www.facebook.com/SusanSBPhotography/info

Why I Am No Longer Freaking Out Over Our Wedding

March 22, 2013 / / 8 Comments

Fifty-seven days until I marry the love of my life. No small feat considering over four years ago I said I was never getting married again. Ever. I would consider “living in sin”, having casual sex (sorry, mom), and/or parenting with another human being but I was never getting married again. Period.

I wonder if that is what everyone says when they divorce someone they cannot stand?

Anyways, I have written about the love of my life, aka my fiancé Chuck, in the past but a brief refresher for those of you who missed it:

Girl goes to church every week. Boy returns to church after a few years off. He goes every week. Girl and boy start getting to know each other at church events and become church buddies. After an entire summer of after church service conversations, boy and girl finally get their act together and go out just the two of them. Girl realizes that day that she never wants a life without him and apparently boy does not either. Much to the shock of half of western Massachusetts, girl moves in with boy after dating for only four months. An engagement follows one year later.

And here I am, engagement ring, venue deposits, first pre-marital meeting with the minister and all.

But here is the secret. We struggled with getting to the point of actually having a wedding day. Why? Because I wasn’t sure I wanted a wedding. Don’t get me wrong, I was all for marrying my fiancé. Him and I making a commitment forever? Perfect. Even the possibility of one single day without him in my life was intolerable. However I was very conflicted about a wedding and my idea was to elope, preferably with our minister in tow. He wanted a big wedding. I was all for celebrating our marriage and our love with our family and friends but I had serious concerns. To start with, the actual act of marrying him was something that I did not want marred by the pomp and circumstance of the wedding industry or by all the “stuff” that can come with a wedding. I wanted the focus to be on our vows, the exchanging of our rings, and our love rather than worrying about the flowers matching the groomsman’s tux or the photographer getting the right pictures.

I did not want the stress of planning a wedding. I have done it before and now I have an autoimmune illness that can be seriously exacerbated by stress. The fact that I am a perfectionist at times does not help. I did not want to spend the following year to year and a half planning every detail of a day when I could be enjoying those days doing something else or spending time with him and my other loved ones. I was also afraid that we would plan this whole special day and then my illness would flare up and I would not enjoy the day or maybe not even be there.

But here is the problem with all of my concerns. They were all about me, not him. Not only what I wanted, but what I could handle. I wasn’t considering what he could handle and what we could handle together. But we wanted two very different things, or so I thought. The reality was that what I thought I wanted was motivated by fear, not by my heart and he knows me well enough to know that. Despite my protests, he knew that celebrating with our family and friends and being married in our church, a place so dear to both of us, was more important to me than I was acknowledging. He knows my fears. He knows my heart.

After many conversations, we agreed on a compromise of a ceremony in our church and a casual BBQ wedding reception (also known as the “party”) on a different day. The separate days was Chuck’s idea as he thought it would make it more enjoyable and easier for me because of my health issues. He made me understand that the responsibility of planning this wedding would not be all on me. He wanted to be a part of every step of the process. He said it was something that we could enjoy doing together.

We set two different dates for the ceremony and the reception. A few months later, which was August, one of my worse fears came true. Due to a misunderstanding, there was a huge interpersonal conflict regarding the wedding (not between Chuck and I) and I was ready to call the whole thing off. I didn’t want something that was supposed to be so special causing hard feelings between me, Chuck and any of our friends or family. There was too many sleepless nights because of it. I was starting to feel the stress of planning the wedding and it was still nine months away. I would never make it.

We talked and talked. We even argued a bit which is a rare event. I was letting a conflict with someone else get in the way of our wedding. I was freaking out and worrying about details that were still months away. There was a point that Chuck even asked me if I was sure that I wanted to marry him because of how resistant I was to the actual wedding. I was heartbroken. Of course I wanted to marry him. This was a big turning point for me. I realized that there was no way we were going to make it to May unless I either called off the wedding (not the marriage) or made some serious changes. We made the changes.

The changes included mostly an attitude change on my part. I decided from that point on, that I was not going to let anything distract me from having this celebration that we both deserved. It was important to him and I knew that if I could get out of my own way, I would start looking forward to it as well. We made some simple changes to the day to make the planning easier. I developed the attitude that I didn’t care what happened. That may seem callous to many people but for someone who is a perfectionist like me, taking an “I don’t care attitude” brings me back to a average person’s level of caring. I have the focus that it is the day he will become my husband. Nothing else matters. We decided that our focus was going to be on the ceremony, our love, and the people celebrating with us. We would plan other things that we wanted for the ceremony and the party, but I wouldn’t obsess about the details. I would go with the flow. Something that I have learned from Chuck. Something that eventually may add years to my life.

And I have gone with the flow since then and here we are, fifty-seven days away. I will admit, it has been a bit hectic lately finalizing details and such but I can sit here and honestly say that I am extremely excited about May 18th. We have been through a lot since my meltdown in August. I did get very physically sick and ended up hospitalized and Chuck’s mom passed away, fourteen weeks before our wedding date. For me, both events have made me see the importance of sharing this marriage with those in our life. Life is short and full of bad times. We have to take advantage of celebrating all that is good in this world, especially love.

Really good things have happened in that time too. You learn a lot about person when you are planning a wedding with them. We have mastered the art of compromise. I have learned more about what makes him happy. Most importantly though, I have learned that I can put my faith in him and that he will always come through for me. My biggest fear and concern was how I was going to physically handle the planning but the fact is, I don’t have to handle all the planning. I don’t always need to be in control. We have strengthened our roles as partners. For me, the planning of this wedding has been a labor of love, faith, and trust.

I have also learned things about myself during this process and the experience has done a lot to change some aspects of my personality that could use some work. Such as my perfectionism and my tendency to worry about everything. I have been forced to change some of my ways in order to make room for better things. I know the big day is still fifty-seven days away but I am in a good place. My health cannot afford the luxury of worry or stress. That is not what the day is about and our love deserves better than that.

We had our first pre-marital meeting with our minister last week and while we were talking to him, I glanced over at my soon-to-be husband. I am not exaggerating when I say he was radiating with love. The way he looked at me reminded me of why I am so willing to compromise in the first place. The way he looked at me reminded me that I would go to the ends of the earth for him. And now that compromise is two days that I cannot wait to experience with him. His love for me and my love for him is what our wedding day is about and I cannot wait to share that with those in our lives who are so important to us.

Mother By Chance…Mother Through Love

January 21, 2013 / / 4 Comments

“Biology is the least of what makes someone a mother. ” ~ Oprah Winfrey

Before I met my fiance, Chuck, I was married once before and engaged once before that. This gave me one past mother-in-law and one past mother-in-law to be. Neither of which I was close to. I got along fine with both of them, but the mother-in-law to be moved to Tennessee about a month after my ex-fiance and I started dating. I saw her maybe once during the entire course of our three year relationship. She and my ex-fiance were not particularly close so there was not a lot of effort on either side to visit.

My ex-mother-in-law (hopefully you are still following this) and I got to know each other a bit but then she went kind of crazy and just stopped talking to us right after our wedding. She wouldn’t return phone calls, letters, nothing. At first I thought it was me, but after a confrontation with her where I showed up alone on her doorstep demanding some answers as to why she cut her son and I out of her life, I realized it had nothing to do with me. According to her, my ex-husband had secretly severed ties with her and was lying to me about it. It was him that was the issue. I did not believe her at the time and down the road I did found out that my ex-husband was a pathological liar so to this day, I don’t know who was telling the truth; although I suspect that maybe she was all along. You can all see why that marriage ended.

Do you know that when you Google search quotes about mother-in-laws, there is not one positive quote to be found?

When I started dating Chuck, his mom, known to me as both “Nana J” and “Mom”, was living with Chuck’s brother, sister-in-law and their three boys in a town approximately two hours from where we live. I remember being nervous as hell the first time I met her and I remember exactly why: because she was so important to Chuck. But the first visit went well, as did every other visit after that.

We would go visit her every other month or so and typically there would be a house full of people during our visits and Mom didn’t talk too much during these visits when everybody else was around. Rather, she would mostly sit and listen to everyone else conversing. Because of her physical limitations and her desire to stay put at home, she never wanted us to take her out anywhere so all of our visits would take place in the comfort of her home.

Things changed though one Saturday when Chuck and I went to visit. His brother and his family went away for the afternoon and it was just Chuck’s mom and his sister-in-law’s mother, Lu, at the house. Chuck’s mom was not feeling well and resting in bed that day but one of us needed to keep an eye on Lu, who was in the living room. We took turns doing this so it gave me the opportunity to sit and chat for quite a while with Mom alone; without Chuck and without interruption. To me, this was definitely the turning point in our relationship.

What I realized during that visit was that I truly liked Chuck’s mom. Not just because she was his mother, but because of the person she is. Of course I had always liked her but now I was getting to really know her. She is a straight shooter and you never have to guess what she is thinking. She has a heart of gold and a quick wit to match. At a time where I am still trying to find my way amongst Chuck’s family, she takes a genuine interest in getting to know me as a person and not just as her son’s fiancee. She makes me feel like I matter.

About two weeks after that visit, Mom was hospitalized, which was the first of several hospitalizations in the next few months. We started visiting her with increasing frequency and each of those visits brought Mom and I closer. I don’t know if it was because it was usually just the three of us visiting together at the hospital or because of the circumstances with her being ill. Maybe both. But those visits became so precious to me. She would tell me story after story about Chuck and his siblings growing up. I learned more about his deceased father. We talked about a lot of different issues facing the world today. I had the opportunity to tell her bits and pieces about my own family and upbringing. We laughed like crazy. We established a bond. She was no longer Chuck’s mom, but a part of my family as well.

On the long drive home from one of our visits with Mom at the hospital, I burst into tears. And I don’t mean the gentle roll down your cheek kind of tears. These were the chest rising, sobbing kind. Because I knew. Even though a doctor had not said so yet at this point, I knew something was terribly wrong with Mom. The weight loss over the past year, the decline in her physical abilities, the bone pain, the mysterious things showing up on her lung CT scans, her history as a smoker, her lack of appetite, all of it.

But…
We were just getting to the good, part her and I.
And now there was not going to be enough time.

We finally got the official news approximately two weeks before this past Christmas that Mom was terminal. A failing heart and a mass in her lungs She did not want to pursue any further testing or treatment and Chuck and I support her in that decision. Chuck was devastated by the news and my first priority was, and will continue to be, to support him through this process. This is after all, his mother. The one that gave him life and raised him to be the incredible man that he is today. They have had fifty-five years together. I am so grateful to her for making sure that someone like him exists in this world.

I was struck hard by the news of her limited time left with us. Not to say that I was surprised by the news, but I began to feel an enormous sense of loss. At first, I felt like I didn’t have a right to feel like that. This was not about me after all. This was Chuck’s mother who was dying. At least that is what I told myself. But what I began to realize was that yes, I was very sad for Chuck and his loss but because of the time in which we have been able to connect and bond so much, I realized something more.

I love her.
It was going to be my loss as well.
Certainly not on the same level as Chuck’s, but a great loss all the same.

Mom has since moved to a rehab facility and is waiting for nursing home placement. We continue our visits; oftentimes Chuck and I go together and sometimes I go alone. I treasure every single moment that I am in her presence and I don’t take one minute of it for granted. We still continue to bond although because of her physical state, our visits are much shorter. My only regret, or rather wish, is that I had met Chuck sooner so that I would have had the blessing of spending the time with her that others in his family have had the privilege of having.

I will admit, it is difficult to watch someone you love deteriorate from week to week. It is even harder to watch your partner slowly lose his mother. My marriage to Chuck may still be four months away but I do not have the luxury of time. It is not on my side. I do not have the piece of paper that signifies that I am officially her daughter-in-law. But she will now and forever be to me, my second mother. The one given to me by chance and through love.

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