Had my father lived, he and my mother would
be celebrating their 60th anniversary today. It played on my awareness all this month, so
in course I continued to revisit the last time I saw him alive. His was a heart with a minor flaw that caught
up to him in his 77th year.
The plan had been for his faulty value be replaced; the prognosis was
good for his survival. The guess was a
bit off and he expired in the town’s local emergency room. I wasn’t sure if I
was going to even comment on that; ever.
Just that the idea of anniversary continued to nibble at my
understanding of its true meaning.
I had been brought up to consider an
anniversary as a joyous occasion, as in the anniversary of a wedding, or a
birthday. Yet, the true meaning has no
sentiment attached. It’s just
“the annual recurrence of a date marking a
notable event.”
Thank you Merriam-Webster. So a death qualifies just as an auspicious
event as a marriage. It’s common, that we the living continue to count events
where the participants are no longer present.
I’ve heard often comments such as;
“It’d
have been their 70th Anniversary, had they lived”
or
“Their
80th birthday, if they were still with us.”
I
guess the counting stops when all of the life witnesses pass away as well?
My mother survived her husband; something I
hope won’t be Montse’s fate. Mom is doing
well, but of course after fifty years of familiarity you can’t help but soften
to the realization of that huge missing piece of her relationship she grew to
depend on. Montse keeps good care of me
tho; Makes sure I get my exercise and
feeds me only the most wholesome of home cooked meals. The joke here is that after she’s gone I’m
going to kill myself with eating exclusively bologna sandwiches and potato
chips….and perhaps chocolate chip cookies.
It shouldn’t take all that long.
With this
gloaming reminiscence (gloaming’s root is an old Scot word meaning twilight) I reflect
on all those times I ignored the many anniversaries of my life unheralded. I was too wrapped up in my current dilemma. I can truly celebrate the beauty of staying
with a project, my relationship, without having to count how long it’s lasted
thus far.
Still, it does little harm to
pause and marvel at the view from time to time; I believe they call that
counting your blessings…
how sweet a sentiment.
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