It is our 3rd wedding anniversary. 3
years ago today I said ‘I Do’ to the woman I pursued with mission my sophomore
year of college until her consistent declines at requests to be my girlfriend
eventually became a confident yes. After that, for the next 5 years we molded
an incredible relationship and friendship that ultimately flourished into the
sacred important moment of us standing at the altar promising our unconditional
love to each other for the rest of our lives. We promised fidelity only to each
other and no one else. We promised to hold tight together arm in arm no matter
the risk of financial burdens being cast down upon us like a heavy wave. We
promised to stand the course and care for one another whenever sickness had its
way with our anatomical make up. And in the previous 2 years in celebrating May
18th, we reminded ourselves that those promises held just as much
meaning in the present as they did on the day we made them.
But as May 18th rolls around this year,
the landscape of our lives and our marriage have endured a drastic uninviting
alteration. If I can be honest, today I have nothing to celebrate. Unlike the
1st year, there’s no weekend hideaway in a luxurious downtown Atlanta hotel to
celebrate. Unlike the 2nd year, there’s no lying out on the warm
sandy shores of Palm Bay beach enjoying the sound of the Atlantic to celebrate.
This 3rd year there’s nothing. No trip. No getaway. No special date. No
lovely dinner. Today there’s nothing but a long existing farfetched unrealistic
desire to turn back the hands of time to August of last year and somehow
prevent the horrible illness that happened to my wife.
You all have followed
our story and are aware that Tanndra has been home since January after her
4-month stay in ICU due to her brain disorder Anti-NMDA Receptor Encephalitis
which was caused by our pregnancy. However not too many people know of the
struggle the recovery process has been these last five months. What happened
has left her emotionally damaged just as much as it has physically, and because
so we’re missing out on yet another occasion that means so much to us.
Last year I was forced
to spend my birthday, her birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas in the hospital
as she suffered from mental psychosis caused from the disorder, as well as
watching her receive breathing support from a ventilator as she laid
unconscious. And now even though she’s no longer in the hospital, I’m forced to
spend our anniversary simply wishing I had my wife back. The person Tanndra was
before being admitted into the hospital August 25, 2015 is not the same person
who came home after being discharged.
While in the hospital I
was so ready and anxious for her to come home, I fooled myself into thinking
that her being home equated to things quickly picking up where we left off and
life being normal again. Never have I ever been more mistaken. This recovery
process has been one of tedious length. I miss my wife. She’s here, but she’s
not here. This sickness has taken away her joy of life. It has taken away her
capacity to see a brighter side to things. It has taken away her ability to
concentrate and critically think as she’s accustomed to. It has left her skin
full of scars and subdued her bodily figure to nearly 100 pounds which hurts both
of us to the core. It has repressed the emotional connections she’s had with
people, including me.
Because of all this, in
the past 9 months I have not been able to laugh with her, go on a date with her,
raise our son together in the way we’d always imagined being able to do, or
share in the emotional and physical ways of love people can so often take for
granted.
As I thought about this
special day that I’m not able to celebrate, I asked myself what has made me
endure for so long? What has caused me to not give up on her or give up on us
after 9 months? What has caused me to not force validity to an excuse to do
away with the promises made 3 years ago?
It’s simple. It’s
because I love this girl with all of my heart .I’m determined to get her back
and get us back no matter how dim the chances feel sometimes. You never know
how much you really love someone until that love is tested by disastrous forces
you have no control over. But what I do have control over is to fight for her health,
fight for her emotional stability, fight for her cognitive healing, and fight
for us to be who, where, and how we used to be.
I’ve learned so much of
what my marriage vows really meant. If I could offer a quick word of advice to
those who are married or thinking about getting married, make sure you know
what you’re in your relationship for. Because if you’re in it for the dates or
for the status or for the likes you get on Facebook pictures with one another
or for the financial security the other brings or for the physical pleasures,
then you will have nothing to sustain you when the unexpected happens. If the central
foundation and principal fundamental of your relationship isn’t pure categorical
resounding love for one another even in the absence of the things I just
mentioned, then do yourselves a favor and discover your way to it asap before
it’s too late.
Today I have nothing to
celebrate, however I do have something to be thankful for. A celebration gives
cause to pause to recognize that which is an event…but thankfulness gives cause
to pause to recognize that which is endless. And what I’m thankful for is the
endless love God has blessed me with to have for such an incredible wife. Today
it’s tough for me to celebrate our wedding date, but what I will do and
continue to do is be thankful for my wife, my marriage, and my love for her. And
it’s the substance of that love that gives me strength and determination to
fight on each day until I get my Tanndra back.
