After all these years…

What astonishes me more than the glide by of 28 years since we met on February 24th, 1996 at the Château Laurier Health Club and went for drinks with our erstwhile (Cupid) friend Johnnie in the By Ward Market is the unparalleled bliss we’ve shared every day since then. I honestly cannot recall a more sustained and nutritious relationship.  And to make it all the more remarkable we continue to delight in being together every day that follows.

Ours was from the beginning an alliance devoted to accomplishment.  We’ve owned three properties together; we’ve spanned our residence in the city and the country; we’ve worked together; we’ve travelled together every year including Italy, Sardinia, Mexico and the Caribbean and a good deal of North America in both Canada and the United States of America; we’ve shared relatives and friends on both sides; we cultivate our French and English heritage (while proudly preserving the Franco Ontarian and Québecois distinction); we’ve always agreed upon what should or should not be done; we both like sugared donuts at Low Country on Hilton Head Island; our arguments never last long; and while I naturally prefer to think I’ve added to the relationship there is no question whatever in my mind that you have spoiled me to the limit (and of course I adore every moment).

While I know it is customary as one approaches the predictable end of life to ruminate upon the anticipated sense of loss which either of us is expected to endure, it is a subject and reality which I not only ignore but which frankly I haven’t the time to consider. Instead my preoccupation is only what we are currently engaged in doing and what we have on our agenda. For example we’ve already booked a cruise in 2025 and a return trip to our beloved Hilton Head Island. And lest it appear that the domestic venue is any less attractive, I quickly rebut that supposition and confirm in the strongest of terms that I likewise have nothing but favourable inclinations regarding the time we’ll spend in the Town of Mississippi Mills at the end of Spring Street with our family and friends, not to mention Her Ladyship Wendy at the Mississippi Golf Club where we routinely fulfill our happy social imperatives.

And did I mention automobiles?  Well! There’s another perfect instance of the serendipity of our entente. Call me Driver if you will but it is a slur I am pleased to survive. Yet another example of what I believe to be the fortuity of our relationship.

As for our differences – there must of course be some – the one which readily percolates is glitter and gold.  Be that as it may, once again I am prepared to absorb that vulgarity in the interest of settlement. And, too, perhaps my personal preference for Maldon salt exceeds your own, but again not an insurmountable obstruction by any means! Admittedly certain of my “edited” photographs are intolerable but I view that as a paltry artistic difference, hardly anything of substance by which to contaminate an otherwise perfectly reasonable and fruitious compact.

These are all words by which to communicate the simple words “I love you” of which there is entirely no more adequate expression. So here’s to us and all that that entails! Happy Anniversary, Denis!

Hugs & Kisses