The word "dread"

One definition of the word dread is "to feel extreme reluctance to meet or face". I am now intimately familiar with the term. There are quite a few days coming up that I am dreading. First and foremost is November 23rd, which would have been our 25th anniversary. See, it even hurts to type that. Would have been. It still feels like it should be. When I think back to our wedding day I have such happy memories. Ron rescued me when I was truly lost in my life. I had a two year old son from a previous relationship and I was dating such losers. There is a long history there of me feeling like I didn't deserve to be treated well. I guess we all have some sort of damage from childhood that is hard to overcome. I didn't know if I would ever find a man willing to take on not only my damaged self but a little boy, too.
Ron was a friend of a friend of mine, and she decided that he was the kind of guy I should be dating. She talked him up to me, and talked me up to him, and we arranged to meet first before actually going on a date. I remember that meeting like it was yesterday. My friend and I were at a bowling alley (!!) and Ron walked in. I took one look at him and knew I would marry him. I didn't believe in love at first sight until it happened to me. My friend introduced us and we made small talk for a few minutes, but Ron had to leave because he had another date. (For our entire married life I kidded Ron about that hot date!). Anyway, he got my number and we started dating the next week. It didn't take either one of us long to know that this was it.
Ron accepted my son right from the start, and loved taking him on tractor rides and to see the cows and teaching him about farming. He played on the floor with him for hours with toy tractors. His family was mostly accepting too. There was someone that wondered what he saw in me, and they asked him how he could raise someone else's child. Ron said that he didn't feel like Jason was anyone else's child--he already felt like his father. I was so proud of him for that. Shortly after we were married Ron adopted Jason, which meant the world to me.
What I remember of those early years is just lots of fun. We had our first daughter a year and a half after our marriage, and our second came along two years later. There was always laughter and music and wild dancing in the house. I don't dance when I can avoid it, but Ron and the kids would dance all over the house. Now I wish I had joined them every time they asked me to. Ron was still dancing the week before he died. The guy just loved life, and had such a good time every day, and he made everyone around him happy too. I sure miss hearing that laugh. There is a line in my son-in-law's favorite movie, Titanic (Ha! Eric), that when I first heard it I felt it in my soul. "He saved me--in every way a person can be saved". That's what Ron did for me.
Right after our anniversary is Thanksgiving. There are many things that I am thankful for this year. First is our three kids (and I have to include my niece, who feels like mine), who are now all adults. I am immensely proud of each of them for the wonderful people they have become. I am also thankful that Ron did not suffer at the end. Oral cancer can end very badly, but he was spared that, and I thank God. I am so thankful for my wonderful family, especially my sister and brother-in-law, who gave me another home whenever I need it. In fact, I am typing this from my "apartment" in MO. I am thankful that I am regaining a relationship with God. I have been away for a long time, but God is the only way I am getting through this right now. I am so thankful for having Ron for as long as I did. It doesn't seem like I had him long enough, but I don't know that any amount of time would have been "enough".
Ron would have been 57 on December 2nd. That will be another hard day. He shared his birthday with a dear friend of ours, and I know that this year will be a hard one for her. Nancy, I will be thinking of you. Then of course is our first Christmas without him. I don't know how we can "celebrate" anything without him. Our rousing Trivial Pursuit games will never be the same.
I still cry at least once a day at this point, but I also try to laugh at least once a day. I know that if Ron were still here, he would be making me laugh every day, because he did for almost 25 years. Thank you, God, for giving me that wonderful man.