Twenty-five years ago today, after a particularly pleasant bike ride home, and a lovely time in the backyard with Viktor Chenomyrdin (my beloved departed diplocat), David and I agreed to meet for tea. The rest is (a lot of) history.
I have to admit that I have probably spent more time thinking about this anniversary than I have about any of our previous anniversaries. Life is frought and difficult right now, which makes me acutely aware of how much David and I have successfully navigated together. It also makes me particularly appreciative of having David by my side.
We both have a slack attitude towards anniversaries. Our basic take is that it is important to appreciate each other every day of the year and not to wait to pile it on any given day. There have been years when we celebrated and years when we both totally missed the date and only remember a week or so later. When we did eventually remember, we wished each other a happy belated anniversary and move on.
This year I really wanted to recognize the commitment and dedication to each other that started with some pots of tea a quarter of a century ago. This is a particularly difficult year to try to celebrate anything, but it is also a year that we need the recognition.
David threw out some ideas, but they all had their own issues. We aren’t really sure how the travel thing is going to work out yet and navigating me to theater seems daunting. Not to mention not being sure that I am up for an entire show yet.
David came up with the winning idea. We would go to an 80’s cover band’s performance in the park. With a picnic. Actually, that last one was my idea. I may not be able to eat, but I love picnics.
Thursday, I had an appointment with my non-communicative GI. Nothing came out of it because we are essentially waiting to see what my Stony Brook GI comes back with. Anyway, we were a little worried about my energy. I wasn’t feeling great. But I was determined.
As expected, I perked up a bit when I disconnected from my feed at 6pm. My best hours of the day are the 4 hours when pumping my feed into me isn’t causing me pain. The concert started at 7:30 so we had plenty of time to get ready.
As we started to gather our stuff, I realized that because I was free from my pump, I wouldn’t have my trusty, rusty backpack with me like I always do. That was a weird realization. My pump backpack has fused with my being. But I persevered. We just packed the picnic blanket, some snacks, some lighters (we were going old school at this Bon Journey concert!), etc. into a different backpack.
There was a good sized crowd when we got to the park, but we found a perfect place to put our picnic blanket. Turns out it was behind another family with a transport chair. There was another a few folks ahead of that. Clearly I had found my assisted mobility crowd!
While the band was tuning up, David asked if I wanted some ice cream. I said yes, and he ran off to the well-placed ice cream truck that parks right next to the park’s great lawn. David came back with his usual cone for him with a spoon for me. Then we waited for the show to start.
It was a beautiful evening. The temperature was perfect, the sun was setting over the East River and there was a strong sense of community on the lawn. I was happy.
The band had clearly played a ton of b’nail mitzvahs because they knew how to lure the crowd to the stage. A crowd that was largely way too young to be OG Bon Jovi or Journey fans, but they had the energy to rock out. We also learned that lighters are really an indoor thing because they kept going out when we waved them. That and the lead singer told people to pull out their phones for certain songs. Personally, I don’t think it feels the same.
I spent almost all of Friday in bed. And Saturday wasn’t great either. In fact, this morning hasn’t been perfect. Apparently I rocked out a bit too hard at Thursday’s concert. But I don’t care. It was truly worth all of the misery because it was an absolutely perfect way to celebrate 25 years with the person whom I love the most and is the center of my ‘verse.