Roses from the Desert

It’s my anniversary.

More accurately it’s our anniversary.

He usually forgets. Well to be correct – he usually remembers at least half way through the day and scrambles to call the florist and makes something special for dinner.

Last year Liam helped with supper. We wound up with salmon and Kraft Dinner. His favourites. I fed most of mine to the dog.

So how does one spend their 5th wedding anniversary when their significant other is “over there?” Should I light candles and have a glass of wine? Should I get dressed up? Go out?

There should be a manual somewhere advising protocols in this situation - some socially acceptable thing to do when you find yourself alone on your anniversary. Because honestly, today, I would have gladly pulled the sheets up over my head and awakened tomorrow.

With two kids that’s not really an option – a fleeting idea maybe, but not a real option.

Some good friends brought me flowers yesterday, Gerbera daisies. They knew I’d be feeling low. Their cheery faces greet me as I enter the kitchen.

It’s raining – the remnants of a hurricane. The weekend we got married Juan hit Halifax. I hope this one will be kinder. The dogs are soaked.

I sigh. A jammie day, if there ever was one.

And the doorbell rings.

A man is standing there with a dozen roses. Red and pink – my favourite.

I grin the grin of the Cheshire cat. Laughter bubbles up from within. He remembered!!

And somehow he’s managed to send me roses from the middle of a war zone!

Liam is mesmerized by the fact that Daddy sent something. He can’t stop touching the soft petals. He’s six. He still believes in magic. And he believes his daddy can do anything. I start to explain about tele-florists and credit cards but I stop.

Let him have the magic for a little longer.

I don’t quite know how he managed it. I don’t really care.

He remembered.

And I can get through today. Day 36.