My husband and I were high-school sweethearts. We married young and he was my whole world. But one day, after a trip to the mountains, he simply vanished.
I first met Patrick on the first day of high-school. My family moved places and I was the new girl in the neighborhood.
As I walked towards the classroom, some girls started teasing me, but he stood up for me and offered to walk me to math class.
I felt like it was love at first sight, and I somehow sensed he felt the same.
At 18, we tied the knot, and soon after, I fell pregnant with our baby daughter. Shortly after giving birth, he enlisted in the army and was deployed to a foreign country. At 22, he returned home and life felt complete again.
One day, as we had breakfast together, he said some of his friends asked him to go mountain hiking with them. He was eager to spend some time outdoors, so I told him she should go and have some fun, not assuming that he wouldn’t return in the next 17 years.
That day felt like an eternity as hours passed by and my husband hadn’t returned.
The following day, the police started an extensive search. Days turned into weeks, but there was no sign of Patrick.
My world collapsed. I had no idea if he was alive or not, but I never lost hope.
Authorities said they believed there was an avalanche that claimed Patrick’s life, but without a body it was something I couldn’t accept as a reality.
Fifteen years after Patrick went missing, I met someone. Toni was a kind man who knew that my husband had been missing.
At the time, I still felt like I wasn’t ready to start anything with him, but over time we bonded and started dating. We even welcomed a son together but we didn’t marry.
Eventually, Toni proposed and we were about to marry at a small ceremony in the backyard of my home with only a few family and friends in attendance. My daughter was glad for me because she believed it was about time that I moved on with my life.
At those moments, I thought of Patrick. I still missed him dearly.
The ceremony was about to start when a police car parked in front of the house. From the distance, I saw a familiar face at the back seat. Tiny, pale, and aged, I realized the man was my Patrick.
He got out of the car but was unstable and had a hard time moving. I rushed towards him and took him by the hand. As everyone starred at us, I took him inside the house to avoid people confusing him even further.
During those 17 years, my husband lived with another woman in her cabin in the woods, isolated from the rest of the world.
He lost his memory after a fall and she convinced him he was her husband. Then, one day, his memory returned and he became aware he had a wife and a daughter.
I was by Patrick’s side throughout his doctors’ visits, physical therapy, and counseling.
He was still the man I was in love with and Toni knew that, so he set me free and I rebuilt my life with my husband.
Today, at 68, we are celebrating our 50th wedding anniversary.
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Bored Daddy
Love and Peace
