March 13

March 12, 2000 was, without a doubt, the worst day of my life.  Our soon-to-be 20 year old son, our firstborn, Ryan was killed in a car accident.  The days that followed were not much better.

Every year as March 12 rolls around, I grieve hard.  Yesterday was no exception.  I talked to both of the kids.  They weren't having any better of a day than I was.  I have a good friend here visiting me.  She occupied me and my mind a good part of the day so that I didn't cry all day, just most of it. 

Last night I went to bed at 9:30.  My eyes and head hurt.  I was sure I would never sleep.  But I did.  I slept well.

After March 12 always comes March 13. Our anniversary.  Today, Marc and I have been married 35 years.  Thirty-five years.  That is a long time.  That is 65% of our lives.  What a journey it has been.  A journey filled with laughter and tears.  Joy and pain.  Life and death.  Hopes and dreams, some fulfulled, some not. 

We have held each other's hands as we passed through the fire.  And, together, we have emerged a little stronger each time. We have shared the joys and heartaches of raising three children and now sharing the unimaginable joys of grandgirls. 

Oh yes, today will be much better than yesterday.  Happy anniversary Marc.  I love you.  Today, as we celebrate thirty five years together, our nephew, Jay and his wife celebrate their first anniversary.  Happy anniversary  Jay and Ashlee.

Terri