Twelve Years OnOur first beach trip.
It amazes me still that one unexpected message
One chance encounter, with no expectations
And, if I'm honest, not a lot of optimism either
Somehow turned into dozes of other trips
And a house in the burbs with a couple of cats
And secret recipes only we know.
One leap of faith, because what else could it be?
Sudddenly, somehow, without any effort at all
Became twelve years of unconquerable happy
And counting.
Happy Anniversary, I love you!
Eleven Years OnEleven years
One dog
Four cats
Three grandchildren
Two nieces
One house
Three cars
A dozen elections
Two dozen concerts
All the homemade pizza and wings we could eat
And we're just getting started.
Happy Anniversary, I love you!
A Perfect TenTen.
X.
Diez, Dix, Zehn, Tio, Dieci, Десять, Deset, Kymmenen, दस, Tíu, Mười...
How long is that in relationship years?
Must be at least a hundred, right?
So how is it that it feels like it was just a few days ago, I was headed west to meet you?
Never knowing, never imagining
That ten years on I would be sitting here marveling
At how very right this all turned out to be.
I'm not surprised anymore, but I am still amazed.
Happy Anniversary, I love you!
Nine Years OnSomewhere in the Wayback Machine
You'll find two people
Rubbing their chins and wondering
Is this going to be another bust?
Or is it the real deal?
Fortunately for us here in the present
For reasons only they could explain (or not)
Those two decided
That is was worth finding out what it would be
Without worrying too much about what it might be.
Guess we owe them one.
Happy Anniversary, I love you!
"Extreme Votivation VIII"
Raleigh, NC - July 2010 (Click to embiggen)
"Bridge Over the Haw River"
Saxapahaw, NC - October 2010 (Click to embiggen)
Eight Years OnThings begin.
Things end.
All creatures born,
Eventually die.
All things built,
Eventually crumble.
The pendulum of power,
Swings as it chooses.
And somehow,
Through it all
We continue.
Happy Anniversary, I love you!
The year 2017 is not going to be remembered fondly in our house. It's been kind of a rough one for us, and an even rougher one for our four-legged companions. In April, we lost Tonka, who'd been my faithful sidekick for all of his 14 1/2 years. Today we lost Miss Clyde, who had been Wendy's baby for even longer than that. She'd been diagnosed with a very aggressive type of malignant tumor in her mouth a month or so ago, that made eating difficult, and possibly even painful for her. We knew she didn't have a lot of time left, and the best we were going to be able to do for her was keep her as comfortable as possible for the time she had remaining. We weren't really prepared for how rapidly things would deteriorate, though. I suppose nobody ever is. She hated the pain medication we were given for her, and would disappear any time she knew it was coming. She'd always given me kind of a wide berth, but when she started hiding from Wendy we started to realize that we were probably in the end stage. Then a few days ago, she started refusing nearly all food. At which point we knew that it was time; she was ready to be done and if we didn't end it for her, she was going to do it herself. So this morning, we took her for her last ride. Her passing was quiet, a transition so peaceful that it was almost impossible to detect. We brought her home and laid her to rest in the wooded part of the back yard that she loved, a small volunteer arbor vitae marking her final resting place. And if she could, she'd ask that if you wish to remember her, to make a memorial contribution to her favorite rescue, Goathouse Refuge in Pittsboro. She didn't come from there, but she heartily approved of the work they do there, "providing cage-free care for cats regardless of age, medical issues or disposition until a permanent loving adoptive home can be found." Travel well, Clyde. You will never be forgotten, and you are always loved.
Seven Years On
It hardly seems possible that seven whole years have come and gone since that first meeting at Monterrey. In some ways it feels like we jumped in a Tardis and flashed forward while the rest of the world went about its business in real time.
But in other ways, at other times, it feels as though I've known you my entire life. Or maybe in a life before this one -- if such a thing exists.
The way you know without knowing exactly what to say, or exactly what to do; almost better than I do myself.
It's still astonishing to me, even after all this time, and all the events of those years, how instinctively we fit together.
I don't know if there's such a thing as "destiny" in the objective sense of the word or not.
I just know that when we met, I knew almost form the beginning that we were supposed ot be together.
And now seven years on, I see nothing to dissuade me from that assessment.
Fate? Divine intervention? Or just dumb luck?
I don't know, nor do I concern myself overmuch with the answer.
I just know I love you. And that's enough. Happy Anniversary!
If you were around back in the days when posting to this blog was more than an annual event, you'll remember Tonka. He was rather more famous for his cartoon alter ego than anything else, but he was a very real friend to many. To me he was an integral part of my life and my world. And on Friday, April 21, 2017 that part of me was torn away, leaving a void that will never be fully filled. I always knew the day would come when I would have to let him go; such is the nature of life with a dog. That's just how the cruel sense of irony the universe has works. He'd had some health issues late in his life, but had always bounced back, even the times when I was sure he wouldn't. But this time, they told me that even surgery would be more risk than reward -- even if it succeeded. And even that assumed that there were no further issues that weren't detectable by visual examination. Faced with that prognosis, there was really only one alternative. He was not going to get better. He would only get worse, and spend what little time I could buy him suffering from an assortment of problems, any one of which could send him over the brink with little or no warning. So I made the call I always knew, but somehow never believed, I would have to make. He left this realm peacefully, surrounded by people who loved him and cared about him. And the last thing he heard before he breathed his last was my voice telling him I loved him. When you bring a dog into your life, a bargain is struck. Tonka never failed to deliver on his part of that bargain; and Friday last, it was my turn to deliver on mine. I was there when he took his first breath in this life, I owed it to him to be there for his last, and to make sure that his passing was as gentle and painless as possible. Knowing this, and knowing it was the only humane choice, does nothing to dull the pain of loss. It does not stop me from second guessing whether I waited too long or not long enough. But I always figured he would tell me when it was time to let go, and everything in the week leading up to his last ride was telling me he was ready to be done. One day, I hope, the countless number of great memories of our time together will crowd out the singular horrible memory of those last moments. Because I would do it all over again, even knowing how the story ends. I wouldn't ever trade the time I had with him for a chance to avoid the pain of losing him. And it's not even close. I have never had a better friend. Travel well, Tonka, and I'll see you on the other side. I love you pal. Update 5/18/17: Tonka's "Auntie Daryl" posted about him here. She used to send him special cookies on his birthday that he really loved. Thanks D. Much love!
Six Years OnOne fine evening
With Mexican food and coffee
Grew into this
Those first tentative moments
Became a house, with two cats and a dog
A Cuisinart and a Costco membership
And a shared data plan
With lawns (grudgingly) mowed
And fresh baked bread
And a whole life
I never dared hope for
But fell in my lap in spite of me.
Happy Anniversary. I love you.
Five Years OnAnother trip around the sun
To go along with
All the beach trips and barbecues
All the miles and miles of stitches
All the laughter
And the very few tears
I never had much faith
In that myth of The One
But we you are
In Our House (with all that entails)
Sharing space as well as life
Leaving me too amazed to say anything except
Happy Anniversary. I love you.
Four Years OnFour years.
That's like 98 human years or something.
And yet
Here I am
waking up with Our Song
Playing on the iHead®
And with your face
Just behind my eyes
Where only I can see
I long ago stopped trying
To figure out how it was
That fortune favored me so grandly.
It's just enough that She did.
Three Years OnAgainst all the odds
(or maybe not... entropy is a funny thing)
A humble strand of ones and zeros
Deflected my trajectory by 90 degrees
And brought me to you.
Three years and countless cookies later
If I saw a movie about us
I would accuse the writers
Of overextending the concept
Of suspension of disbelief.
And yet.
Here we are.
And there's no better place to be.
Two Years On"Every day
Is the anniversary
Of something beautiful."
That's what I said
Last year on this day.
I've never been more right
Or more happy to be right.
I love you Wendy.
Happy Anniversary.
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