22 years ...

September the 22nd, 1990 was, like today, a Saturday.

I spent the afternoon with a friend, drinking tea, chatting, and doing some art together. We'd made a habit of it, getting together at least once a month back in those days, and as always, we'd had a fabulous time.

I'd been a bit unsettled that day, however, and found it difficult to focus on the piece I was working on at the time. I couldn't shake the feeling that something big was going to happen that evening.

Eventually, we packed up our art materials for the day, and went downtown to meet some other friends for dinner and dancing- it was to be a birthday/going away party- at a restaurant which, sadly, no longer exists.

I still found myself full of nervous energy as we seated ourselves at the long table which had been reserved for us, and I started fidgeting with my sunglasses.

People started to arrive, and I continued to fidget, eventually breaking the arm off of my sunglasses. The birthday was mine, as was the going-away, and my dear friend and her boyfriend were organising everything, including the guest list. My friend had told me who she had invited, but I was still surprised to see a tall guy walk in with another friend of ours.

I'd met him before, but not under the best of circumstances- I was left with the impression that he was a jerk, and he, I later learned, that I was "stuck up".  I didn't really know him other than his name, and that he was a high school friend of my friend's boyfriend and a few others who were there.

I was still fidgety and nervous, and as dinner proceeded, I found myself throwing bits of paper napkin at "this guy". I even threw the arm of my broken sunglasses at him. Partway through the evening, it occured to me that I was flirting with him.

After dinner was done, the DJ started up the music, and we started dancing. For some reason, I ended up back at the table with just "this guy" and our mutual friend, Dave.

(I'm guessing the song that was playing was one for which I didn't care)

We were chatting about various things (I honestly don't recall anymore what we were discussing) when the DJ changed the tempo of the music- a slow set.

The first song was "Lady in Red", by Chris de Burgh, which was very popular at the time, and I found myself singing along, as was my habit (still is). "this guy" noticed, and asked me to dance.

"This guy", dear readers, is now my husband, and has been for the past eighteen years.

We've been dancing ever since ...

"All because two people fell in love"

The title of today's post is a line from a country song. Yes, it's a little cornball (such is country music's 'charm'), but bears its own truth.

You see, in 1963, on the 17th of September, in a small church in Limmerick, Ireland, two young people pledged their lifelong commitment to one another in front of family and friends.

The following day, the bride, garbed in her "going away" dress, which she had sewn herself, took her wedding dress (which she not only sewed, but designed herself) and donated it to the priests to use to line their vestments.

Then this young couple, we'll call them John and Mary, boarded a boat which 'set sail' across the Atlantic. The boat docked in Montréal, Québec (yes, in Canada) a week later, and from there, the couple travelled on to Winnipeg, Manitoba, where they would make their home.

The couple raised three children, moving a few times in the early years.  A year in Vancouver, BC, a year in Ireland, as well as several different apartments and townhouses in Winnipeg. They eventually bought a home in River Heights the year of their tenth wedding anniversary.

I am speaking, of course, of my parents. My brothers and I owe everything to them, in particular, that precious gift called "life".

We absolutely inherited our mutual love of books and reading, as well as our appreciation for music (not to mention a certain amount of musical talent) from them. In addition to that, we each have a penchant for films ... Not necessarily the style of music, or the genre of films, although we do appreciate similar things to one another (and, I suspect, our Dad).

This was made most evident to me during my time in Montréal this summer, when I was visiting my brother, my lovely sister in law, and my two perfectly adorable nephews. My other brother travelled with me, and we spent many hours watching films and TV series that one could just as easily have found in my own collection here.

Most poignant was looking at my brother's bookshelves, and realising we had eleventy-billion books between us, and at least a third of them were books I had on my shelves at home.

I am also, for the record, pleased to report that my nephews are receiving a proper education on the eradication of the Undead;

"What is it I always tell you about killing zombies, A? If you're going to shoot them, you need to shoot them in the head!"

It's  very important that children learn these important details, after all ;-)

I am reminded of a meme I have seen floating around the Internet: "Each of us is weird in our own way. Love is when you find someone else whose weirdness compliments your own, and you choose to share your life with them."

So true.

All because two people fell in love ...

Happy 49th Wedding Anniversary, Mum and Dad, wherever you may find yourselves now. I love you.