Dates have always been something I’m really good about remembering. Birthdays, anniversaries, opening nights, even just random days where something kinda cool happened. I’m also pretty good at celebrating all these dates that I remember. The upside: You will always get a card from me on your birthday, I can tell you what date we met and probably what we had to eat, I can easily remember the opening date of any movie premiere, and I am NEVER late to a pre-organized brunch. The downside: Tomorrow is the two-year anniversary of the day I found out my husband cheated on me and it sucks.
Last year on this date I wasn’t divorced yet. I was separated and still holding out hope that God would wave a magic wand and make my husband wake up and love me again. I’d met with an attorney, I’d had papers drawn up, things were oh so bad, and I still thought “Well, the ink isn’t dry…this horrible, sad, pathetic marriage can still be saved!” I’m a glutton for emotional punishment that way.
When you’re with someone for that length of time, and you’re as type A as I am, you remember all the dates. And these dates come back to haunt you. Obviously our wedding anniversary, our dating anniversary, the day he proposed, the day I found out about the first affair, and of course, the day the divorce was finalized. That last one hasn’t come up yet, but I’m sure I’ll agonize over it when it does come round.
Remembering dates can be a good thing for me because in some odd way it reminds me of where I’ve been, what’s changed, and gives me a chance to look at where I’m going…or even IF I’m moving forward at all (and sometimes I’m not). I’ve started considering it a success as long as I keep moving in some way…the kicker these days is that wherever I’m headed, I’m headed there alone. The dates are also a reminder of my aloneness. The dates hit me like a ton of bricks, me alone, and alone I move on to the next section of my life.
What I’m waiting for is the date when all these dates don’t matter to me as much. When a holiday season comes and goes and I don’t remember every little tradition we had. When I don’t wonder how his birthday is going without me. When I wake up and the first thing I think isn’t “Who’s going to make the coffee since he isn’t here?” But most importantly I’m waiting for the date where the aloneness seems normal, where I feel comfortable in my own skin, when I can 100% be proud of me again.
I know God is working on me in the waiting. Even when I can’t feel it, I believe he is working on me. But the waiting still sucks, and the dates suck, and the aloneness sucks. And saying that these things suck is ok. God knows. He gets it. And for some reason that I don’t understand, he wants me in this holding pattern. So all I can really do is obey and continue to praise the God who holds me through the waiting.
Psalm 27:14 “Wait on the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.”