It has been five long years, and boy have they been long. I have worked really really hard to rebuild my shattered life. Most of the time I am in a pretty good place. I won’t go into everything I have been thru and done, because we are here on this site and we have been there. The ability to abbreviate my story in this space is one that I have really begun to appreciate. Going to weddings has got to be one of the worst widow activities next to planning the funeral I can think of. It is a mine field of possible pain. It’s always mostly couples. I am always the odd woman at the table. I stick out like a sore thumb at that table full of happy couples like the grim reaper at a party. Yes, when the music is fast, the girls get up and dance, but then the slow song plays. Then the husbands get up and dance with their wives. Except for mine. Lets face it, it sucks. But, I have been seeing someone. For almost three years. We are a solid couple. So, when this next wedding for the daughter of a friend I have known for 40 years came up, I could smile and look for a pretty dress, because this time I would be able to get up and dance a slow dance. This week I got a call from the brides mother telling me that because of costs the only people who could bring plus 1’s are engaged couples and couples living together so I could no longer bring my boyfriend. I am the widow at the table again. She was there when my husband was dying. When I felt like dying. I know weddings are expensive and I won’t argue about bringing him. But, I won’t go either. I know a rule is a rule is a rule but what does it take for someone to have empathy for this horrible loss. I did not choose to have my husband die. I wish I was her. I always said I would never wish this on anyone but damn I wish It was her and not me. I am less then equal among my friends. Will this ever happen to them? Do you lose your place as a human being when your husband dies. I may never get engaged. Does that mean I will never be good enough for the slow dance?