The Constant

I’m thankful for constants, and in particular: my husband.

That word came up last night when I wrote his birthday card. I couldn’t think of a more appropriate term for summing up what he has meant to me during this past year as well as in previous years.

We met almost 29 years ago and quickly became inseparable. I’m the fiery and intense component of this alliance and he grounds me in a quiet sort of way.

Four years ago, we said goodbye to my father on this day.  I remember thinking of a way we could move his funeral date, but that it was proving to be difficult. “Of course, do what you need to do,” my husband offered. Reluctantly, I did.

I was still torn between grief and love if there is a way to consider them separately. It’s also hard not to remember a birthday without thinking of a funeral as well.

I think of the flowers I chose for my father, one of the last tasks that I would do for him. I think of the mixture of purple, gold, and white cuttings that I saw arranged so beautifully around him at the wake. I also think of the drive I took with a friend to choose some flowers for my summer garden so they could live in the sun and we could enjoy them.

So I made a compromise.

The evening following Dad’s funeral, a few of us sat together with my husband at one of his favourite eats. I knew this small surprise was worth the trying day we’d all had.  It wouldn’t take away the loss we felt, but for a short while, it brought some needed joy.

On that day I chose to pause my sadness and to acknowledge the other priceless man in my life because I could.

He’s still here, my constant, for as long as he will be.

On our fridge, there’s a magnet that says, “Grow old along with me. The best is yet to be.”

Happy Birthday, my constant and my one true love.

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