A day to remember...



I'm not going to sugar-coat how I am feeling today. I am not going to "Pollyanna" this post. I'm hurting. It is the fifteenth anniversary of the day Chris and I first met. It was the day that changed my life forever; the day I began to live rather than just exist.

Chris and I met on My Space, quite by accident. I had joined in order to connect with friends back in the States. This was, after all, very much a forerunner of Facebook. But every morning I would log in and find countless emails from men who claimed to be American or British professionals, but whose poorly written missives would expose them for who they really were - scammers from Nigeria. They were "cat fishing" before the term was coined. So, one day, I wrote a little rant about it. I hadn't joined My Space to find love. After all, my track record for good judgement in mates was exceedingly poor. No, I was there to reconnect with friends. But, my rant was answered by a man in Sussex called Chris Mawson. He said that men, too, were getting these emails with pleas for money to help pay for medical treatments for sick children (the scammers had not figured out how to catfish men, I guess). And so began an exchange of messages. 

I looked at Chris' profile. My first thought was that he had one of the friendliest faces I had ever seen. And as the weeks went by and as we wrote and spoke on the phone, I felt so comfortable. It was as if I had found a new best friend. And my affection grew, despite my trying very hard not to let it grow. And then he asked if we could meet and I kept putting it off. I suppose I was afraid that it wouldn't go well and I would lose this amazing person with whom I spoke every day. But an acquaintance told me to stop being stupid. How would I ever know what the future could hold if I didn't at least try. So we arranged for our first date. 

The trip from my home in Corsham, Wiltshire, to Stourhead, also in Wiltshire, took just a little over one hour. I pulled into the car park a little ahead of schedule and waited with my heart racing. Chris and I had been corresponding with each other, first by email and then by phone, for about six weeks. I was both excited and terrified meeting him for the first time. I was fearful that my affection for him would prove misplaced or, if he was the wonderful person I thought him to be, perhaps my affection would be rejected.

I remember seeing Chris as he walked across the car park towards me. He had the loveliest smile and his eyes twinkled. He was carrying a huge bouquet of flowers. We gave each other a tentative embrace and made our way to the restaurant in the visitors centre so we could have lunch. Conversation flowed easily and, as we both observed later, we felt as if we had known each other forever. After lunch (which must have lasted about an hour because of the conversation that accompanied the actual eating of the meal), we walked around the beautiful gardens. I remember sitting on a bench and Chris kissed me. We talked about wanting to continue to see each other. For some reason, I remember telling him that I wanted to move to Scotland and he loved the idea. It was a wonderful day.

We were inseparable from that time onward. Only those days between our meeting and moving in together (an embarrassingly short period) and the times we had to be apart for family obligations, we were together pretty much all day, every day. Conversation never stopped, laughter was rarely absent, love was constant. I know that I fell in love in Chris on August 13, 2006. Madly, deeply, completely, and forever. It was a magical day, followed by just over 12 years of love and laughter, turning, in the end, to sadness and tears as I watched Chris die. 

I am coming to the conclusion - and to acceptance - that I will never again by that person I was when Chris was here. I still smile and laugh, but there is always that sense of loss in everything and every day. And that's okay, because what I had with Chris was so incredibly special, so rare, that I suppose it is a fair price to pay. I wouldn't hurt so much if I hadn't loved so completely.

To you, my angel, my husband, my best friend - happy anniversary. I love you as much today as I ever did and will probably love you even more tomorrow. And when my life ends, I have to hold onto the belief that we will be reunited to spend forever together.

Peter, Paul & Mary - The First Time





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