Saturday was our wedding anniversary. One year since we were married. One year since that wonderful day, a day that was almost perfect in every way.
After twelve years, living as husband and wife, we wanted to make it official. We chose to experience the joys of saying “I do,” of toasting each other and consecrating ourselves to each other in front of witnesses. With only 48 hours of pre-planning, our family made this special ceremony possible; and afterwards they dined and danced with us to celebrate our new life together as a formally wedded couple. The occasion was so very joyful.
So what could be less than perfect about that special day? The only invited guests were our very immediate family, but one other presence loomed “larger than life” at our wedding, a real party crasher: Stage IV cancer of your pancreas.
Pancreatic cancer is a covertly treacherous entity. By the time it was discovered, it had done irreparable harm and set you on a time-limiting course. It sank its fangs into your body’s core and gradually sucked your life away.
Cancer was the reason our life together took a new course and the reason we said our last farewell six months ago. Cancer is the reason you weren’t here to celebrate with me on Saturday and the reason I miss you every day.
I learned some important lessons from this path we travelled with cancer:
Yes, I am deeply grieving. You were my Sweet Prince, my beloved partner and best friend. Perhaps it’s odd, but I am thankful for the grief. I consider grief a healthy experience. I want to grieve and grieve and grieve some more, all ways and always. Why? Because grief is the shape our love takes now. It started to assume that form the moment pancreatic cancer took its unwelcome place in our lives.
So, whenever I say, “Love lives on,” I acknowledge the lasting power of grief.
Grief is love, self-sustained. It must be love.
~ Julie Saeger Nierenberg (Levitt), September 24, 2018
Julie Saeger Nierenberg is a freelance writer and editor, lifelong educator and artist, a proud parent and "grand-partner." Julie lives in Canada. Inspired by the experience of her father’s dying and death, Julie published a short memoir about her family’s grief and loss. Daddy, this is it. Being-with My Dying Dad launched a true journey of connection and transformation, as Julie reached out to share it with those who assist the dying and bereaved. Following that memoir's publication, Julie received numerous end-of-life perspectives from others, some of which are available in Journey's End: Death, Dying and the End of Life. Writing and publishing in this heart-led direction, Julie hopes to contribute to a cultural shift in how we prepare and support others in the final chapter of life. Julie also enjoys writing and editing legacy writing, fiction and nonfiction works; she feels privileged to help other writers succeed.