A dedication to my Wife, and all my friends

I lost my best friend and 31 year companion about 19 months ago. So this will be a memorial.

We met at 19. Oddly enough, we were both at a party the night before, in a small apartment, and didn't run into each other.

The night we met, her friends (and my friends, we just didn't know each other yet) invited me specifically because I smoked pot, and they didn't know anyone else who did. My wife, Kat, was a lovable person. She was petite, and many people made the assumption that she was weak. I promise you, she was not. In their circle of friends, I was the only one that smoked (which is really hilarious, since in my circle, I smoke the least).

We met. I acted like an ass (I mean, I was a 19 year old male, in the 90s, so that was really expected). I forget the actual chain of events, but she wound up over my shoulders. We had our first kiss when she was upside down. That probably defined more than I knew.

We spent the rest of the party together. Nothing complicated, just talking and getting to know each other. We shared a small bedroom for the evening. We didn't get physical but talked and kissed for like the next 6 hours or so. It was a beautiful evening.

There was no second date. From that night, we were together. I'm not going to pretend we didn't have rough spots. A committed relationship takes work and time and conversation. It was amazing. We grew up together, not like a childhood fantasy, but we were adults and leaned on each other.

We both came from poverty and lack of power (hers was far worse than mine). We compared our pasts and clung to each other to find something better. Most of our lives were spent doing the opposite of what we were taught by family. We both knew our scars and decided a different path was needed.

There are moments when you can see the universe split. I distinctly remember the morning before her nephew's graduation party. It was pre-child. We did our tai-chi workout in the morning. We were so in sync it was beautiful. That night, we drove north to the party, and her mother told her that she was the reason that she and her father got divorced. (BTW, totally not the case, she was the child of an affair).

That night, part of her broke. Like, my parents were assholes, especially my father, but never did they put a blame of their relationship on me. It was devastating, on so many levels. I helped her (as best I could) to pick up the pieces.

Not too long afterword, her mother developed breast cancer (which spread everywhere). That inspired our decision to procreate. While her mother was dying, we decided to contribute to her legacy. Watching her mother interact with my spouse (and eventually my daughter) was eye-opening. The woman had a lot of issues and foisted them onto her offspring.

Life became more and more complicated after her mother passed. I don't think we were adequately prepared for the emotional toil. That was the moment the decline began.

We had decades of stress after that. There were a lack of resources to help. That's for sure. It just became harder and harder. Stress was a trigger for my wife's health. We did our best. I still love the shit out of that woman. But her illness eventually overcame her.

My birthday, October 28, is the last day we went out together.

December 23, two days before Chrismas, was when she was admitted to the hospital.

January 1, was our last anniversary together.

January 16, which was MLK day that year, was her last day on Earth.

February 1, was the first birthday of hers I celebrated without her.

I'm a wreck from at least my birthday through valentine's day. 5 months a year I remember the greatest love of my life.

It's a small price to pay. From my understanding, most people don't get that. I've been truly blessed.