Monthly Archives: February 2015
Oh, Valentine’s Day. It’s now one of those days that brings extra sadness to my heart. Six years ago, on 2/14/09, I was given the best gift ever. I found out I was pregnant with my second child. I remember being so excited, and I couldn’t wait for Evie to become a big sister. Allie would be born healthy later that year. Our family was complete, my heart was whole, and I had no idea that tragedy was waiting for us around the corner.
Last Valentine’s Day, I sat around crying looking at Allie’s Valentine’s Day video and pictures from her preschool class party. This year, I had planned to make it through this holiday by trying to focus on Evie and the love that remained in our house instead of the past. So, Kyle and I bought tickets online to take Evie to see Paddington at the movies that night. But that afternoon, Evie was invited to spend the night at a friend’s house. She wanted to go so badly, and I didn’t want my broken heart to keep her from seeing her friend. So we returned the Paddington tickets to the theater and dropped Evie off at her friend’s house.
That left two broken hearted people, Kyle and myself, to find something to do last minute on Valentine’s Day. Dinner reservations weren’t an option this late, but I knew we couldn’t stay home either. We found an alternative cover band playing at a bar close to home and decided it was our best option. I love a good cover band, and it was a bonus that they played music from the 90s. Kyle and I started dating in the late 90s, and the songs from then remind us of a much easier time. The band was called The Disappointments. What a fitting name for what our lives ended up becoming.
Kansas City is small, and it seems like I run into someone I know every time I leave the house. Valentine’s night at the bar was no different. I ran into a guy that works in the same building as me. This is not someone that I know well, but just someone that I say hello to passing in the hall. I introduced him to Kyle, and he started telling us about his recent vacation to Colorado with his daughter. His daughter named Allie. I resisted reminding him that I also had a daughter named Allie. I didn’t tell him that my Allie didn’t make it to Colorado because she was dying of brain cancer when we had planned to go. Valentine’s Day is depressing enough without the details of my story.
Besides my work neighbor, the bar was crowded with many other single people trying to survive Valentine’s Day. I’m sure they were looking at Kyle and I thinking we should be doing something better than hanging out at a bar on Valentine’s Day. I could feel them looking at us wondering why these married people crashed their party. They didn’t come to a bar to see couples together on Valentine’s Day. I wanted to shout and tell them not to judge. I wanted to challenge them to compare their scars with mine. I wanted to scream, “My heart is more broken than yours!”
After a bit, Kyle and I saw a spot open up at the bar and grabbed the open chairs. There, I sat next to a girl about my age, and she looked to be alone. Between the band’s sets, she started talking to me and told me that she had just got dumped a week ago. She was twice divorced, and she was regretting that she always chose the wrong guy. I told her that I married the right guy, but my life still sucked. She nodded, and luckily for both of our sad souls, the band started back up. My new friend said goodbye a little while later. She laughed and told me she was going to meet her married friends to be their fifth wheel on Valentine’s Day.
So that just left Kyle and I to sit there and listen to the band. There, we sat in a bar with our broken hearts listening to The Disappointments on Valentine’s Day. And, while it sounds like an extremely depressing scene from an indy film, it wasn’t. The band was really good. So good that we were both able to forget our shared pain for a little bit. And, for the first time since Allie died, there was a glimpse of the old Kyle and I together. For just a moment, we were not broken and shattered. We were just two kids back in the 90s with no broken hearts or disappointments in sight.
It’s hard to celebrate a day of love when you are miserable. It’s been difficult for me to accept that there’s no cure for the ache in my heart. I will always be missing Allie and wishing she was here. But, sometimes you have to be grateful that there is a moment when the anger and sadness ease. And, when it does, you just might see that you are lucky to have someone to share the disappointments with.
