Forever and a Day – that was the theme of our wedding. A few short weeks after David and I met and fell in love, we were on the phone late at night – I, in Los Angeles and him, in New York. We were discussing our deep, intense feelings for one another and I said to him, “Forever.” He quipped, “Forever isn’t long enough” to which I coined, “Forever and a day.” Satisfied with that length of time, we stuck with it, often repeating it to one another throughout our three-year relationship. When one of us would write a note or a card to the other, we would frequently sign off with, “Forever and a Day, Lindsay.” The phrase was engraved inside of our wedding rings and beautifully embroidered, by David’s mother, on to our ring pillow. Our first dance was aptly to Ben Harper’s, “Forever” with lyrics like, “Not talking about a year / No, not three or four / I don’t want that kind of forever / In my life anymore.”
I vividly remember being a child and intently contemplating the concept of forever – there was something about it that always fascinated me. Most of these keen meditations would stem from my thoughts on religion and God and eternity in Heaven and would often involve me lying in bed at night, staring up at the popcorn ceiling in the darkness. I would tightly close my eyelids and try to imagine what forever felt like, at times feeling like I almost had a grasp upon it with my fingertips and then it would swiftly escape my reach.
While Heaven may exist – I don’t give myself headaches any longer trying to imagine if it does or does not – I have been confronted countless times and in vastly differing ways with the disappointing reality that nothing lasts forever. Where David and I once imagined an eternity together, there is now a Dead End sign. Where we once uttered the words, “Until death do us part” and “Forever and a day,” there are now the words, “Have you filed the divorce paperwork” among other, similar business-like exchanges.
Now at night, when I stare up at the bedroom ceiling contemplating life’s many mysteries, I regularly ask myself why my version of forever ceased to exist. I wonder if the notion of forever is just not meant for simple human beings like us to attain while on this Earth. The one thing that’s not a mystery, though, is that, “I don’t want that kind of forever in my life anymore.”