On Any Other Day, By Any Other Name

             Today is my 37th wedding anniversary.  For the past five-plus years we’ve taken a little day trip or a small getaway (usually no more than an hour from the house).  These outings were so lovely, so simple.  So much more than we’d been able to give each other previously.

             When we found out that he’d have to work this afternoon, we rolled with it.  It’s how our lives were for the first 30 or so years together.  We made personal sacrifices for the greater good.

             Which is really kind of the basic theme for this life he and I have (apparently) selected, when we last left the spiritual plane and put on our current physical bodies.

             I wonder though, can it be described as “sacrifice” when it doesn’t feel like a choice?  My personal experience of the past nearly six decades has almost never given me the impression that we are the types of people who can say no to a workday in favor of a private celebration.  The heritage and ancestors we come from have forever needed those paychecks, needed those meager earnings.

             Believe me, I’m the first to say “you always have a choice!” when asked for advice.  So probably, in this situation, as in many others, the selection he and I are making is “we need the money more” and we just have to adjust.

             Our message right now is about that, that adjustment, that examination, that freedom of space and time.  If we don’t have a party, we don’t have a fancy recognition?  Well, that doesn’t mean we didn’t mark the day.  It doesn’t mean he and I don’t value and treasure this relationship.

             If we are given the opportunity to help others, to assist in the benefit of the whole, isn’t it sort of the best choice to do that?  He was needed there today; we rely on all the working hours available in order to stay housed, clothed, and fed.

             Did we give up part of our time together?  Yes.  Did we hand over this calendar date in favor of another?  Yes.  And we’re both okay with it.

             In the end, we had a nice meal, late.  We were together, eventually.  And soon, we’ll go somewhere else, a day trip, or a small getaway.  We’ll call it an anniversary present, delayed.

Our dream vacation.

 

 

 

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