I, _____, take you ______, to be my wedded husband/wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, ’till death do us part. And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness.
Many of us say and recite these words at our wedding ceremony without really understanding the depth and significance of them. Many of us hear them and get nostalgic at the thought of getting married and all the Good that comes with the title. But many of us also fail to realize that these words are an outward confession before God and man that you will be there through the good AND the bad!!! Yes, there are many bad things that can happen; job less, abuse, infidelity, childlessness. And although all of those situations are extremely stressful and difficult to overcome, many people fail to realize the impact and magnitude that death can bring. I was unfortunate enough to have to deal with this at a very young age. I will say that it was the HARDEST thing that I have ever had to deal with in my life and it has taken me a LONG time to do so. My prayer is that my words here will not only bring light to the turmoil and severity of grief, but encouragement for someone that not all days will be crying days and that it is ok to let go. It is a continual process, but the day will come when you can smile genuinely again.
I remember it as clearly as if it happened yesterday. I was talking to my sponsor while in-processing at my very first duty station after completing Army basic training. He asked if I had any family coming and I proudly and confidently replied that my husband was only a few hours away. He was driving from Va to Ga in our brand new car. We had only been married 5 months and I spent 4 of those in Army training. We were excited to start our life together, young, full of expectation, and ready for the world. Little did I know, but at the moment that I was allowing myself to fly forward into our future in my imagination, he was hurdling uncontrollably into the opposite direction of traffic into the the direct path of two tractor trailers. The impact was fatal, so he felt no pain. At least, that is what they told me. But how could I not torment myself for the next several years over the fact that he probably knew that things weren’t going to end well as he watched himself barreling towards those trucks, fighting to control the wheel. The consultation, they said, was that he was not drunk, speeding, sleepy, or distracted. REALLY?!?! Was that supposed to make me feel better?!?!?
To add insult to injury, I did not even find out about the accident until 12 hours later when I called my dad after my husband did not show up at the time we had discussed. Maybe he got lost? Or stopped somewhere to rest and would be there a little later. The furthest thing from my mind was that something as horrible as a car accident would take him from me. My father was near hysteria when I called him. You see, the authorities assumed that I was also in the car and spent several hours attempting to find my body that they thought was thrown from the car. Because we were moving, my husband had many of my things in the car with him which lead the authorities to think that I was with him. The last time I saw my husband was from the window of the airport as he was waving goodbye to me as my flight was taking off. I remember begging him to let me stay and make the drive with him and him insisting that I needed to sign in on time and not be delayed. This was my first duty station and he wanted to make sure that I made a good impression on my leadership. I can’t tell you how many times I prayed and wished that I had insisted on not leaving him. I beat myself up for years about how if I had been with him, the accident may not have happened or at least we would have died together…
Little did I know that finding out about the accident was the easy part. The next 14 years, I spent blaming myself, cursing myself, and sabotaging my own success because I didn’t feel worthy to live. Why should I be successful or find happiness when he died? I let guilt tell me that I had no right to find love anywhere else, and I let the world tell me how I should mourn and react to his death. For years, I ran away from close relationships and ostracized myself from friends and family for fear that if I cared too much about anyone, then they would suffer the same fate. You see, I had convinced myself that I was the reason he died. It was all my fault. And if anyone ever found out then the same thing would happen to them. I played over and over in my head horrible scenarios of the people I knew dying in plane crashes and car accidents. And when I had children, I became paralyzed with fear that they would die soon as well. I never wanted to have them out of my sight. No, they couldn’t visit family, friends, or any one else. They couldn’t have friends over because I didn’t want to be responsible if something happen to another child under my watch. Oh, and that was just the beginning.
Success became something that I never took seriously because I had convinced myself that just living each day was enough punishment for me. That is what I was doing. I had been punishing myself for his death. He was his mother’s oldest child, only son, and the first grandchild. He was the love of his entire family and anyone else who knew him. Yet he chose me. A nobody. I never felt special growing up, yet in high school, he thought I was the most beautiful girl in the world. But why did I have to take him from his family?!?! If he had never married me, if he had never left to be with me, if we had never met…then he would still be alive today. This guilt wracked my emotions so badly that I even stayed away from his family feeling that they hated me and had every right to. I took away their son, their brother, their nephew, their cousin. I was the enemy.
I sought counseling at one point. But that only made things worse. The first counselor that I saw was in remission of her cancer when we started our sessions. Sadly, within 3 months of meeting with her, the cancer came back with a vengeance and claimed her life. If that wasn’t enough to shake my already frail mental and emotional state, the exact some thing happened with the next counselor I saw!! I am not sure if she lived because as soon as she told me the cancer was back, I stopped seeing her hoping that my bad luck would fall off of her. I would not be able to handle the thought of someone else dieing because of me. I know that sounds ridiculous, but this is the reality of where I was at the time. I couldn’t see and understand that these circumstances had nothing to do with me. All I could see was that I was the common denominator.
We got married young. I was 17 and he was 18. I was not old enough or mature enough to understand that ’til death do us part meant exactly that. So every time I started a new relationship, I began to feel like I was cheating om my husband. I never gave any of them a fighting chance. I didn’t deserve happiness, and on top of that, how was I going to explain this new man to my husband when we all died and got to heaven. I would imagine my husband being furious and hurt that I had moved on and found someone new. How could I so easily replace him? What happened to all the love I proclaimed? This was the hardest part for me. How could I truly move on? I had pledged my life to this man, and I took those vows seriously. Every year, I forced myself to relive the agony of his death in order to stay focused on why I could never let him go. I had convinced myself that this is how I am supposed to feel, to live. I am NEVER supposed to forget. Yet that is exactly what started to happen…
I started to forget his voice, his touch, his face. And I became angry at myself all over again for not holding up my end of the deal. He died, the least I could do is remember him!! Yes, I still have pictures of him, but I shouldn’t have to look at a picture to remember that man I profess before God and man to love for eternity. But that’s it. That’s the revelation that I overlooked. I didn’t promise eternity. I promised til death. ‘Til death do us part means that when he died, my vow was broken. That wasn’t a bad thing, it just meant that it was just over. It is ok to forget sometimes. I don’t expect to remember him exactly when I am 50. And he doesn’t care at this point because he is GONE. Forever. He is no longer of this world. And truth be told, because he loved me so much, he would be hurt to know how much I put myself through all of these years. He would not want me to be still holding on to him like this. He would hug me and kiss me and tell me that it is ok and it is time to let him go.
The bible says to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. So that is where he is, with God. Probably praying and making intercession for me. Pleading with Jesus to ask His father to send peace to my heart. Asking him to deliver me because for such a long time, I couldn’t see for myself that I needed deliverance. Even now, as I type this, there are no tears falling. For the time for tears has long since passed. I thank and praise God that I was able to love him and cherish him for the time that he was with me, but he is gone now and I have to make room in my heart for the blessing that God has for me. In order to do that, I have to serve an eviction notice to the guilt and fear that has lived there for so long. As the Apostle Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 15:55 “…Death has been swallowed in victory…O Death, where is your sting?…”
Today marks 14 years since I lost my first love. In the years past, I have always dreaded this day because it conjured old feelings of loss, pain, heartache, and longing. This day always reminded me of the happiness I lost and feared that I would never find again. This day has always had me regretful and depressed. But the time has come for me to let it go. I can no longer cry for him and wish things were different. He is gone and no matter how much I try, I can not bring him back. From this day forward, although I will NEVER forget you Frederick Antwan Johnson, I can no longer mourn your death, I must celebrate your life. Every year the guilt of possibly forgetting you and how much you meant to me, yet not being able to visit your grave as I’d like has kept me from letting you go. But I can’t continue to allow that devil to hold me hostage, stuck in the past. I love you and will never forget you, but from this day forward may you rest in peace. 7/22/79-1/27/98
Be Blessed!!
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