I sat down this morning to do my taxes. When I opened my laptop, I saw the calendar reminder from last week. April 7th would have been Mr. Virgo’s and my 9th wedding anniversary. It never entered my mind. I had no dread leading up to it. And I only had momentary regret that I forgot.

It was a busy week with traveling and the excitement of getting a literary management contract. Thursday morning I had a breakfast meeting with Hubby #1 and his sweet wife. I don’t often get the chance to sit down with her and chat about what’s going on in our lives. Then I drove from Louisville to Bristol, Tennessee. I spoke with friends and family most of the way. I made a few business calls. And the rest of the time I listened to music, singing along at the top of my lungs, marveling at the scenery crossing the mountains of Virginia and Tennessee. The redbud and dogwood were fabulous! The blue skies and puffy white clouds added to the ethereal atmosphere. If I could make a choice of a beautiful day to repeat, that would sure be one of them.

But…what does it mean that I forgot our anniversary? What does it say about me? There may be some who think it’s shameful. There may be more who think it’s impossible. I’ve given it a good deal of thought this morning and I’ve decided I’m going to agree with one of my dearest friends…it’s a sign of healing and looking forward. It doesn’t mean I don’t love Mr. Virgo. It doesn’t mean he’s any less important in my life. It certainly doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten him. I think he would be thrilled that I’m doing joyful things. That I’m looking forward to an amazing future.

No, forgetting an anniversary is not a bad thing. Forgetting to LIVE is.

❤️

“I thank my God every time I remember you.”

Philippians 1:3 NIV