Monday, May 11, 2020

A Journal of the Plague Year, Part the Twenty-Seventh - Happy Anniversary

The human mind keeps a very good calendar.

There’s probably a good reason for this, hidden somewhere in the depths of history or biology.  People who could keep track of events and patterns tended to survive more or do better than those who couldn’t.  We find those patterns comforting even now in a digital age that prizes novelty and defines anything done twice on purpose as a rut.  Even our social media platforms know this, which is part of the reason why they keep reminding you of what you posted a year ago, five years ago, a decade ago, even if you’re not who you were then.

It’s why we keep track of birthdays and anniversaries despite the fact that the changes in our lives happen more gradually than that.  There’s no big shift from the day before you turn 30 to the day after, but the small changes add up and you look back and see a milestone that perhaps wasn’t obvious at the time.

Today is my parents’ 57th anniversary.

It doesn’t feel any different from yesterday, in some ways, but over time it adds up to something important because it is a measure of a love that exists in the world and that matters. 

My dad passed away a few years ago, but my mom is doing well.  It’s still their anniversary and it is still a day to celebrate.  You should celebrate the good things in this world.

We’re all living apart now, my mom and my brother and me and our respective families – we were even before all the lockdowns started – but miles mean nothing in the larger scheme of things, not really.  We know we’re here.

Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad.

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