Harrowing Hiatus

It's fairly obvious, punkin, that your dad has taken some time off from posting. What may not be obvious to our dear readers (many of whom are coming through from FamilyMan), are the reasons for this. They are many.

First and foremost, these past days were spent in saying our final farewells to our great friend Rae. I won't talk too much more about this, other than to say that her service (titled The Raelogy) was one of the most touching experiences of my life. We laid her down in a beautiful spot on a fine day in spring, and as we scattered rose petals on her coffin, I could hear the raucous laughter of children playing in the school across the road. As someone who dedicated much of her life to education, I think she'd like it there.

Following this, your Unky Dave and I traveled on to a pub in North Fitzroy to have a drink and a laugh with many of the people who'd been involved, and your father had entirely enough to drink, a fact that he failed to comprehend upon returning home, where he demolished a bottle of cheap red wine. Bad Idea.

Of course, the intervening period between this missive and the last was not entirely composed of time spent saying goodbye to people.

On Sunday, we went to the birthday party of your mate Samuel. Fun was had by all, not least of which because of the Truly Astonishing Birthday Cake. Apparently I know the artist who put this great work of cakey sculpture together, and I will certainly endeavour to requisition something at least as impressive for your first anniversary of birth.

Speaking of anniversaries, there's something interesting that happened today. This day marks the one thousand and ninety fifth day since "Go Go Gadget Rings Day", otherwise known as the day on which your mum and I publicly announced our intention to spend the rest of our lives enjoying a cornucopia of delights together.

While I was awake at 4am this morning (thank you for waking me up and giving me time to have this reflective interlude), I pondered the best way to tell your mother that I treasured each and every one of those one thousand and ninety five days.

I wondered how best to express the overwhelming conviction in my mind, that if asked again who I would choose to spend the rest of my life with, the answer would be her.

That this answer would be unequivocal.

That you could ask me over and over, at least once for every one of the one thousand and ninety five days that we've been ensconced in matrimony, and it would be unchanged.

That her laugh, her smile, and her unbridled passion for life are the fuel that keeps me moving and motivated.

That I treasure every second I get to spend with her, and that those few tiny moments each day in which we sit together in silence are my most valued.

That every time I look into your eyes, I see her reflection, and it makes me fall in love with her all over again.

I love you, and your mum.

Happy Anniversary Evey.