Well, it used to be a special day. Although it's axiomatic that men forget birthdays and anniversaries, I must've been splashing in the wrong sample pool when that axiom was written.
So what's one to do? I didn't buy a card or flowers or chocolates - no need for that anymore. Didn't send a text message, unsure of how it'd be received.
Nonetheless, I couldn't just dismiss it entirely, as though the date never held any significance for me. Nearly a score of years, three amazing children (plus one in Heaven's Choir), there's nothing trivial about that. So, I'll blog about it.
I've ruminated about my friend Todd the Blogger's post about the octogenarian dude who was asked at a family reunion if he'd do it all again, and replied: "Nope. Too Hard." While there are things I'd do differently, better, there's just no way I can look in my kids' eyes and say I wouldn't do it again, denying their existence. I guess I'd like to think I'm the enlightened George Bailey (after Clarence shows him what would've been).
I was going to post the Little River Band's Happy Anniversary on this post, but after reviewing it, it just didn't seem to fit the tone I was looking for.
So, with just a pause to give thanks for the memories before filing this day in the scrapbook of my mind, here's to looking forward.
Happy Anniversary.
2 comments:
Not remembering important dates just adds to their wastedness.
If I'd been blessed with the ability to see into the future I'd give the same answer as gramps, either that or I'd have watched my back a lot more closely.
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