I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later. Seems like every woman I know has at least one similar tale. Here’s mine: Yesterday Wayne forgot it was our anniversary.
How I Envisioned the Day
I’d ordered an “In This Home” framed print from Catalog Favorites two months ago to give him on our anniversary. I had planned on being up early to greet him with a pancake breakfast after his run. Then I’d give him his card and present.
I’d hoped he’d surprise me with a ring to replace the one I broke. Or perhaps had gotten my old one fixed. (I knew it was a dream, but I was hoping for it nonetheless.)
The Reality of the Day
On Sunday, I started coming down with something. We went out for breakfast and while we were there I lost my appetite, started feeling chilled, and in general just felt off. By Monday it was a bonafied bug. I spent the day curled up on the couch.
By Tuesday morning, our anniversary, I was feeling slightly better. The runny nose had stopped, but I’d developed a cough and at first had no voice.
When Wayne woke up to go running, I tried to say, “Happy Anniversary.” He didn’t hear me. (Couldn’t because I couldn’t even raise my voice above a whisper.) When he came back to shower I tried again. Still couldn’t make myself be heard. And I was so groggy from the cold medicine I took the night before I conked right back out.
He came into the bedroom one last time before he left for work. He’d stayed at home for a conference call, so he was a bit distracted as he rushed in to grab a tie before leaving.
“Happy Anniversary,” I tried to croak.
I tried again.
“I can’t hear you, babe. I’d kiss you goodbye but I don’t want to catch your cold. Hope you feel better today. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Surely he didn’t forget it’s our anniversary?” I thought as I lay in bed feeling miserable not just because I was sick, but because I couldn’t believe he might have forgotten what day it was. “Maybe there’s a card waiting downstairs.”
When I finally mustered the strength to get out of bed, there was no card waiting for me downstairs. Nor did he call later. Not until that evening.
“Hey, the conference I’ve been at today is doing dinner for us tonight. You want me to pick something up for you on the way home?”
This was the moment I realized he’d totally forgotten what day it was.
“Naw. That’s okay. I have stuff here I can fix. Happy Anniversary, by the way,” I said very softly.
Stunned silence followed. Then, “Oh no. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I forgot. I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry” was the theme for the rest of the night. He ended up ditching out on his dinner to rush and get me roses, a card, then come home to eat a humble hamburger dinner with me.
As anniversaries go it wasn’t the greatest. But there’s been a lot going on lately. We’ve both been worried about Murph’s surgery today, and Wayne’s been working a big deal. I knew he was distracted.
Still, I can’t believe he forgot. September’s our celebration month. We used to joke that he’d never forget our anniversary because it’s clumped in with our birthdays.
Maybe next year will be better. Hopefully I won’t be sick, it won’t be the eve of any surgeries, and Wayne won’t be so busy. Oh, and most important, hopefully there won’t be any forgetting.