After a weekend of almost too much activity packed into it with the hope of keeping myself preoccupied enough to avoid the pain of your absence during our anniversary weekend and the first weekend without family staying in the house, this Sunday evening Gavin and I unwound in front of the TV with a video. Our wedding video.
It was painful.
First of all, the quality of the video is so poor it is sometimes nearly impossible to distinguish who is who.
Secondly, the videographer was such an amateur. There is constant background noise, sometimes video of the floor or of the wrong event, etc. The splicing is poorly timed. The focus is in and out. It is awful.
Thirdly, the Catholic service we had was so ridiculously long with every single option thrown in for the sake of hearing another song or adding every bell and whistle possible. To all our guests who were there that day, WE APOLOGIZE FOR MAKING YOU SIT THROUGH SOMETHING THAT LONG!!! It had to be painful for you. I fast-forwarded through half of it, and it was still painful for me.
Fourthly, Gavin was on my right side the entire time asking a constant stream of questions:
Was that when Dad could walk fast?
Is that you in the fat puffy dress?
Mommo looks way different.
Where am I?
Why does Andrew look so mad?
How come the limo we rode to bury Daddy wasn't like THAT ONE?
Why is Mindi pulling on your dress?
Is your finger too fat? Daddy can't get the ring on.
Mom, stop rewinding. I already saw this part (Mindi was fixing my dress again.)
Mom, when are you going to talk?
Why does Dad have a flower on his shirt?
(During the Ave Maria) Mom, why are you and Dad looking at that? Did they make you?
Did you want your dress to get dirty now? (after I was bustled and stopped having someone carry my train)
Did you get married in the 80's?
(After pointing out all the great=grandparents who are now passed) Mom, do ALL great-grandmas and have to die from cancer, too?
Why is Murph marrying Heather? Where is Jen?
When can we watch the other video where you and Daddy talk?
Also, it was painful because your cancer was in your brain that day, but we had no idea. Just 30 days later, we would know it. We had our dreams, ambitions and so much excitement welling up in us, blissfully unaware of the drastic change soon to uproot us. It is surreal to watch us knowing what came next.
Lastly, it is painful because I long for you. I long to be kissed by you. I long to feel your fingers entangle with mine in our comfortable hand hold. I long to hear you breathe. I long to feel your warmth. Even in your failing health, you provided me with a sense of security, safety and protection. I yearn for more of you.
I miss you, Brian. I love you.
Monday, April 20, 2009