Every week, the chronic phenomenon of New York Times on love is offered to you exclusively, translated into French, by International mail. This Sunday, a man talks about the love he had for his best friend, swept away by the Covid-19. And on the mourning that he cannot manage to do.
The day I heard Alison was going to die, I curled up with my two dogs in the embroidered bedspread she gave me for my wedding.
This unique object – the text of our exchanges of consent is embroidered on it – nevertheless exists in triplicate. For my wedding, two years ago, Alison had this long statement embroidered on this two-by-two meter plaid. But the person in charge of its confection had made a mistake by putting commas in the wrong place and by adding spelling mistakes, so Alison had made him go back to work twice. She didn’t want a missed gift for me and my future husband, Nate. However, we also received the first two because the embroidery workshop saw no reason to keep them.
One more case in statistics
Before doctors unplugged Alison at the end of April – one more victim of the coronavirus, one more case in the statistics, and just a footnote in the ledger of this sordid story – this plaid symbolized what Alison was. deep inside: a perfectionist who wanted the best gift for her friends.
But she was more than that, she was my best friend for twelve years, and although I’m now married to a wonderful man, I’m not sure I will ever love her as much as I loved Alison.
May this gift – the most beautiful gift my husband and I received at our wedding, the gift we use more than any other, the gift I have held on to since Alison left – come from the one who was my first, and unique, official wife on Facebook has special meaning.
My longest and most successful marriage
When everyone reveled in psychodramas and gossip related to their friends ‘statuses online at a time when Facebook still had walls instead of threads and people still wrote on their friends’ walls, we decided to play the satirical card by organizing our wedding online.
It was the most successful fictional wedding of my life, a wedding fueled by homemade jams bought on the roadside and dreams of a lost cabin in Vermont surrounded by dogs with a shed devoted to Halloween decorations.
With 1,600 journalists, 35 offices abroad, 130 Pulitzer Prizes and some 5 million subscribers in total, The New York Times is by far the leading daily in the country, in which we can read “all the news that’s fit to print”