Till death do us part?

I can't claim to have any sense of prescience, but the last words I said to Mark (in an effort to calm him down) were our wedding vows. I was trying to get him in a calm, happy zone so he could sleep, and then I could also. So, the last words I said to Mark was "till death do us part". At times it gives me chills. The odd thing is that death hasn't parted us...or at least it hasn't parted me from him. Part of me walks in the living world, the other part is with him...in whatever world does or does not exist. We were more mature than most people when we married, and it was the first (and in our minds ONLY) marriage for both of us. I still believe that. I am Mark's wife. I will always be his wife. Death doesn't end a marriage, lack of devotion and respect does.

But I no longer have Mark here - the man who would try to call in sick so he could lay in bed with me when I was sick (which I usually vociferously and successfully argued against). He would groggily wake up at 3 a.m. to take me to the E.R. the few times I needed to go, hold my hand the entire time, and go to work with almost no sleep. The devotion ran both ways. When he was in the intensive care unit and on a respirator I touched him the whole time. I wanted him to know, even before he opened his eyes, that I was there. He said that he remembered little else about that time except that I was there. It was easy being that devoted to him...he inspired it, not only in me but in his family.

These were not acts of sacrifice. He WAS my other half. How could I have been anywhere else? Whenever Mark would have an episode and I had to go to work with 3 hours of sleep, I was more concerned about what could have been wrong with him then put out because I was tired. There is nothing he could have done that would have made being without him better than being with him.

I always knew that I had something special; but I did take him for granted at times. After being with someone exceptional for years, sometimes I forgot that he was one in a billion. I forgot that he was the guy who fit the contours of my heart perfectly. We were at home in each other's hearts. Sometimes I forgot that I existed in as vulnerable place inside him as he did in me. I know it acutely now. I'm homeless, I live nowhere. More importantly, I have an empty house that nobody else lives in. Mark took up the whole house, and it can't be filled with that joy and devotion again...or at least not for a while. I wasn't looking for love when I met Mark, but I sure got it. And while I feel empty at times, at other times I feel like I will always have a part of Mark with me. I will always feel his love and devotion, and I will always have my love for him. So many people have never had that, either because they aren't capable of it or because they haven't found the right "fit". I am both wonderfully lucky, and terribly unlucky at the same time.

Remind someone you love that they're exceptional and that you are devoted to them. Don't take them for granted.