Has it really been 18 years? Me, at 52, hesitating, but finally accepting an invitation from a stranger. Based on the few words I wrote to him and he wrote to me. I took a risk. So did he. We've been together ever since that day, since October 20th, 2005.
And is he really 73 years old today? I did not know this about him then, but I know it now: he is terrific at navigating every unique period of the lifecycle. Knows how to feel grateful rather than demanding better outcomes. How to find pleasure in what you can do rather than grief in what cannot be yours.
In all this time, we have only had one major blow up. It was big, it was a misunderstanding, emotions flared. Otherwise, for better or for worse, we avoid conflict like the plague. Neither of us came into the game knowing how to properly resolve disputes and so we do the only thing that's left for us: we don't ever argue. This despite our tremendous differences. (Ask him how he feels about Christmas. About travel. About a dirty dish! Mine will be the opposite view.) And, even though I spend so many days in travel without him, I cannot imagine life without him.
Birthdays come and go, but this one, coming after a period of separation, feels special.
Anniversary, birthday, rolled into one. Reasons to feel happy because, well, that is our job in life -- find those reasons and stay the course. We live in peace, we live in warmth, with food, we live with love for each other, for those in our midst. What else could we possibly need!
Happy anniversary, happy birthday!
Animals first.
I go out to Madison Sourdough then. He loves their bread, the big round one, I love their croissants.
Breakfast, together.
And then we take our ride and walk. It's a cool day but a stunning one! All that sunshine! Where to? Well, the day he and I went to the Arboretum, he had stayed behind after I had to scoot off to get the grandkids. He met the head curator (that's a fun job -- I comment... Yes, he tells me, no one wants to leave it! Since 1935, the Arboretum has had only three curators!) who showed him the handful of pawpaw trees growing there. You know Ed has this thing about pawpaw trees this year! They talked for a long time (there's a lot to be learned about, well, trees in general and pawpaws especially). In the course of this encounter, the guy told Ed that his favorite local path is the Spring Trail that circumnavigates the ponds that feed into Lake Wingra (all this is in downtown Madison). Say what? I never heard of the trail! And neither had Ed. So today we look for it and we find it. Pretty nice for an inner city pathway!
(ponds, fed by springs, emptying into Lake Wingra...)
From here, it's a hop skip to the Arboretum and yes, I know I said we wont be back soon and here we are, two days after our last visit. Why? Because I want to see the pawpaws! (What do they do with the pawpaw fruits? -- I ask. They churn them into pawpaw ice cream. Someone on the staff has a recipe. I'm sure I can get it...)
(the other parts of the Arboretum are also looking pretty nice right now...)
But we cant be gone too long -- our couch number 2 (even cheaper than the last cheap one that we sent back!) is scheduled to arrive. And it does. And I am full of hope for it! But we leave it cartoned up for today. We have a full agenda already.
In the afternoon I pick up the two older kids.
The unfortunate thing about having an ice cream store in your neighborhood is that the kids now know that there is an ice cream store in our neighborhood. Never mind that there is ice cream in the freezer at home and they never ask for it. The idea of going out for a cone seems like a supremely yummy deal and of course, the minute we drove past the new development yesterday they lay on the coaxing, begging, cajoling, until I finally said -- we'll do it tomorrow, in celebration of Ed's birthday.
So, we do it today, in celebration of Ed's birthday.
At the farmhouse, it's a bit of a rush. Violin, ballet. We need to be ready and on time for both. (They're in skirts today. Not sure why...)
And here's a little side step for me: at the time that Snowdrop dances, I meet up with my daughter's good friend who is in town for the weekend. These friends of long duration are like family, and when they come here, they are respectful enough to always want to spend time with me. Of course, I love young people -- they tend to still have more than an ounce of joy in their souls.
Evening. Ed and I go out for moulles frites. For him. Fish for me.
The day ends with our quiet time on the couch. The old one. (The new one is under construction.) With one or the other or both dozing because we've had such full days. Such happy days. Despite all those entanglements and peculiarities, despite all that's there to cause you to shake your head in bewilderment and dismay, we remain happy. That is our job. Our course. Our love.
