In another world and in another dimension, we’re spending this day wandering the streets of Edinburgh. We’ve finally shaken off the jet-lag. We’re enjoying, well…I’m enjoying…a full Scottish breakfast. You wonder aloud about the difference between a “full English” and a “full Scottish.” I tell you it’s the addition of the slice of haggis and the tattie scone. I offer you a bit of the scone. I know better than to offer any of the haggis. I don’t really like it either. “It’s just a potato pancake. Try it. Please!” You hate it when I try to coerce you into trying new foods, even though it’s allowed you to expand your once childlike palate over the past twenty-five years. I bat my eyes. “Puuuuhleeeze. Please!” I plead. After a quarter of a century, each of us knows how to get what we want from one another. “Fine!” you say, as you grab the fork and grimace. I watch your face to see how it registers. You make a reluctant admission,“Okay. It’s not terrible.” You go back to eating your buttered toast with honey. It’s become your default breakfast here, just like the fish and chips for dinner. The corners of your lips curl ever so slightly into a little smile. You’ve always found it funny how much I love being right. You take your fork and stab the remaining bit of scone on my plate and stuff it into your mouth. I laugh, “That’ll show me, huh?”
After breakfast we walk along the cobbled road up to the castle. There’s a piper at the bottom of the hill. He’s playing ACDC’s “Thunderstruck.” You stop and break into the little “dad dance” that always makes me laugh. You’re such a goofball. It’s one of the many qualities that made me fall in love with you. The piper is undistracted by your silliness. He’s accustomed to tourists acting like idiots. We move on when you realize you won’t get a reaction from him. We make our way into the castle. We talk about the last time we were here. It was November and Scotland gave us a taste of her famously inclement weather. It was the only time during the whole trip that we had to use our full rain gear. The castle’s hilltop proximity lends itself to the battering swirl of icy winds and driving rain. In spite of the fact that neither of us are whiskey drinkers, we leapt at the gift shop lady’s offer of a “wee dram” to warm our chilled bones. The weather is much better today. At the Argyle battery we stop to take in the sweeping views of this ancient city. It’s breathtaking. I look over at you. I think you are, too. How did I ever get so lucky? You’re still as handsome as the day we met. I study your face. The gray in your beard and the tiny lines at the corners of your eyes are evidence of our well-lived life together. “What?” you ask when you find my gaze. “Nothing,” I reply, smiling, “Happy Anniversary, Buddy.” You kiss me and say, “Aw, Buddy, Happy Anniversary.”
Now I’m thinking about our wedding day. In my mind I can see it like it was yesterday. The sky was blue and cloudless. The early autumn sun shone brightly. Summer blooms were fading but still hanging on, as if just for us. All the people we loved were gathered in the Nature Center’s butterfly garden to share our happiness. We stood before them and vowed that only death would part us.
In this world and in this dimension, I am spending the day with nothing but a daydream of us and what might’ve been. I’m spending it in a place that, like Edinburgh, is our shared favorite. Just like in the song, it’s “somewhere only we know.” I’m sat here on the deck at the little lakeside cabin in East Jordan that you loved so much. The serenity of the setting is a stark contrast to the roiling agony of my grief. My insides feel like the biting wind and pounding rain at Edinburgh castle that day all those years ago. Here today, the wind is being gentle. Maybe it senses the ache in my soul. It’s creating a million little ripples across the lake. The surface looks like it’s studded with diamonds. It’s also lovingly guiding the first few colorful autumn leaves down from their branches to the earth. The sun is playing hide and seek amongst the clouds. I think it’s daring me to find it. It’s tranquil here. It’s beautiful. And, while I appreciate Mother Nature’s consideration, I don’t want this version of the story. Yes, it is true that I’d love to be celebrating our milestone wedding anniversary in Scotland, but I wouldn’t even need that much. Just having you here with me, in this place, would be more than enough. No. Having you here for just five more minutes would be enough. Hearing your voice would be. Hearing you say, “Happy Anniversary, Buddy,” would be.
The clouds are thickening now. It’s beginning to look like rain. I will end the day searching for your ghost. I won’t be able to help it. I’ll look for your face amongst the diners at our favorite restaurant. Then I’ll ask for a table for one. After dinner, I’ll come back to the little cabin with my box of fancy leftovers, just like I always do. Then I’ll build a fire in the fire pit, just like you always did. I’ll do it to impress you. I’ll drink my wine right from the bottle, because I know it would make you laugh. I’ll stare into the flames and listen to the 80’s music that you like way more than I do. If the clouds clear, I’ll gaze up at the stars, just like we always did on nights like this. I’ll find one to wish upon. Then I’ll remember that some wishes can never be answered, no matter how badly we want them to be. When it gets a little chillier than I can bear, I’ll go back inside. To get warm, I’ll crawl into the bed that feels too big. Then the tears will come…again. My stuffy nose will make it hard to breathe and difficult to fall asleep, but I’ll eventually drift off with the words of a song by Pink in my head.
If someone said three years from now You’d be long gone I’d stand up and punch them out ‘Cause they’re all wrong I know better ‘Cause you said forever, and ever Who knew? Remember when we were such fools And so convinced and just too cool Oh no, no, no I wish I could touch you again I wish I could still call you, friend I’d give anything When someone said count your blessings now ‘Fore they’re long gone I guess I just didn’t know how I was all wrong But they knew better Still, you said forever, and ever Who knew?
B
