Yesterday was my two year wedding anniversary. The cotton anniversary. And work has been so busy that I was not able to buy my husband a gift. I gave him a card that I picked out weeks ago as I was strolling through the grocery store, but by the time I thought of a “cotton” gift that he would actually like I’d run out of time.
Time. I either have all of it or none of it.
I made a remark about how I needed more time when my father-in-law, who works at the funeral home, commented that we all have the same amount of hours in a day. But why do my hours seem to always fly by?
Yesterday was another long day. I feel like I’ve had nothing but long days as far back as I can remember, although honestly, it’s probably just been a busy week or two. My husband had off of work to celebrate our anniversary, but our plans were scrambled since I had an early morning funeral. We spent time together in the afternoon until I got a death call and had to excuse myself again for a few hours. I ended up leaving work a little after five thirty in the afternoon, when I said enough was enough, things can wait until tomorrow. But I felt bad.
You see, last night our funeral home also had calling hours for a family that I had gotten close with over the past few days. I wanted to be able to be there with them, to close the casket since the next morning we would all be meeting directly at the cemetery.
But it was my two year wedding anniversary. So I was selfish and put myself first.
And it was more than okay for me to do that.
Every day I make sacrifices for my own family so I can serve someone else’s. And, truly, I love my job. But I will not wake up one day, only to look back on my life with regret for not spending the time I could with my loved ones.
We all have the same hours in a day, but those days are not promised to us.
Happy anniversary to my B. Thank you for sacrificing so much of your life so I can work in this field. You are honestly my best friend and love. And I promise you, that cotton wedding gift is coming.