Thursday is Thanksgiving in the U.S. It will be my first one in 30 years without my wife, who died last December. It would be easy to think I don’t have much to be thankful for. But I do.
In the eleven months since Susie died, all the single women in my age group who I’ve met, mainly through the foodie group I joined, are divorced. And I know at least three women in the process of divorce, all after 20+ years of marriage.
No one marries planning to get divorced. The difference between me and all these divorced women is that my marriage ended according to my wedding vows: death.
All these divorced women also suffered a death: the death of their marriage. It doesn’t matter who wanted the divorce. I’ve found that even women who initiated the divorce suffer a form of grief from the death of their marriage. My grief is completely different from theirs but there are similarities in all grief. And I’d rather have mine than theirs. (Strangely, one divorced woman said she’s rather have mine than hers.)
So this Thanksgiving, I am thankful I had a marriage that lasted 30 years. I wanted another 30 years…