I still pinch myself about that, the whole passing of time thing. I told Susanto yesterday, “If you took your life from the time you were born to where you are right now and did it four more times you would be as old as Paupau and I have been married.”
Susanto was one of six grandchildren who showed up at 2:00 yesterday, our fiftieth wedding anniversary. We hadn’t seen Hawthorn for several months. We’ve followed the social distancing, worn masks and kept apart from friends and family since March. Even as restrictions ease we are keeping our distance in so many ways, avoiding groups, not volunteering at any of the many activities that kept us busy for the past years—tutoring, homeless shelter, food pantry, Meals on Wheels, the Turnabout shop, choosing instead to stay home, read, walk, and complain about the current administration. I recently got an A+ in that category). Yesterday was different, though. We feel comfortable with all our family, as they have all been practicing social distancing. (John and Kim have even been tested, too).
We were told to stay home at 2:00. We didn’t ask why. But, here’s why.
We didn’t know what to expect. Jadyne thought that we were in for another Zoom experience. Kim told us yesterday that at the last day of Kennedy’s school he developed Zoom fatigue, left the Zoom portal and went away. “What’s wrong?” Kim asked the weeping little boy. “I miss the in-human part,” he said. The photo above was the human part. We’ve missed it, too. We were reminded just how much we missed it. And even though we had arranged for a chef to bring Jadyne and me a wonderful dinner to spend together last night we thought that we would have just as much appreciated having Mountain Mike’s pizza and beer with the whole family and saving a couple of hundred bucks in the process. But that might have meant sharing a bottle of Silver Oak cabernet with others. Not a good trade.
We were gifted with this:
Ignacio, our once or twice a year landscape maintenance gardener-designer had put a hold on it weeks ago at the direction of some of the people in the photo above, and during the day yesterday came and planted it, a beautiful addition to our backyard.
We’ve forgotten the majority of our anniversaries. This one, however, is one for the books. Grateful as we are for each other, we are grateful for our families, for them, for their thoughtfulness, for their company, and for the fact that we didn’t have to share the Silver Oak Cabernet with them.
Thank you one and all. We love you. D and J.