It’s September 11 in New Zealand today. It’s been 10 years since the World Trade Centre towers came down. It’s a big anniversary for Americans, and I’m sure for many others. Kia kaha.
But for me now September 11 will just be the day after Simon died. Two years on, I have mixed emotions. Last year it just hurt. This year I feel a little differently. I have a sense of relief on his behalf. He was in so much pain, so sick. And he struggled against death. It was hard to see that. So now I feel like I can celebrate his life. I can remember what a great guy he was – so clever, funny, kind – without the pain of missing him (so much). I guess I’ve moved on from that immediate grief.
I have this other feeling that’s hard to pin down. It’s something like a sense of discomfort around expressing my feelings of grief and loss for Simon, who was my best friend for 10 years, now that I’m married to my new best friend. I can’t put my finger on exactly what about all this makes me uncomfortable, but it does (just a little). It certainly has nothing to do with Stephen or Simon, they met a few times and liked each other well enough. Simon was glad that I’d found someone to be happy with. Maybe this is how widows feel when they get remarried.