The Cure.

Yesterday was the 2-year anniversary of the passing of my father. I can say I miss him, I can say I wish he was here - but those words just don't seem to match the void that was created when died. Between the crying and the memories, yesterday just sucked. It one of those days where no matter what you do, you can't get your mind to happier times.

How do you express the sheer sadness and harbored anger you have?
Screaming? "AAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Satisfying, for about a second.
Sobbing? Yes, until you have dried out your reserves and still feel like crap.
How about embracing yourself in fetal position on the bed while you shudder, shake, quiver, and tremble?

I found that love is what I needed. So last night as my husband was laying next to his sobbing wife he rolled towards me, pulled me close, wrapped his arms around me, and said, "I love you." It wasn't,  "I love you, now please stop crying." It was I accept you - your sadness- your crying- your red, puffy eyes - and I love you just the same. It was not just acceptance of my feelings, but acknowledgement that my feelings are valid and relevant.

That moment (tender and touching) was a defining one for me. I have my person. That person that everyone has, the one that you turn to for everything and anything. That person who sees your soul. That person who can bring feelings of love even in the darkest of my sadness. I call him a soul mate, a best friend, a lover, a husband, a companion, and a great man.

So what started as a very dismal day (rightly so), I realized that even when one love fades it can continue on. The love my father had for me can't be replaced, but it can be satisfied by the love that my husband, family, and friends bring to me.