I don’t feature much about the most important person in my life.
He’s quite private, he’s low-key, very hard to buy for because he doesn’t like “stuff”, and the stuff that he does like, he is quite particular about.
He’s my husband, and we’ve been married over 30 years. (I won’t go into how old we were when we met, but I was around my daughter’s age. So that’s a while).
For his birthday earlier this month, we decided we’d go for a nice dinner just the two of us. The kids weren’t home for the holidays yet, and we hadn’t gone out alone as a couple to try a new restaurant in a while.
But what present to get him? Other than dinner? I couldn’t think of an actual gift.
On the morning of his birthday, as I waited for the coffee to finish brewing before I headed to work, I pulled out one of my blank cards. And I wrote him a note, from the heart, about all the things I don’t say to him every day. It was a love letter. The kind we used to write each other when we dated long-distance and saw each other only on weekends, sometimes several weeks in between, and sent things to each other via snail mail.
When you’re together as long as we’ve been, it’s so easy to forget that how you feel, what you say, what you don’t say, really matters. The writing was easy for me.
I left the envelope propped up next to the carafe, knowing he would see it as soon as he reached for the coffee – the first destination of every day. In fact, he often can’t entertain a conversation with me until he’s finished his first cup of java. Me – I’m a morning person. Him – not so much.
I got a text from him later around 10 AM. He loved the card. He thought it was sweet. It made him emotional.
Have you ever written a love letter?
At a time 
Change – NaBloPoMo finish line
It’s the last day of November, and with this latest snowfall, the winter season is here to stay.
Change of season, life changes, change is a constant.
We had a neighbourhood couple over for dinner last night, with whom we have become very friendly through our kids. We come from such different backgrounds, but having the shared experience of living in this community for so many years, it’s always enjoyable spending time with them. We’re at the same stage in life, with adult kids, one grown and flown, the younger ones still in school. Empty-nesters-ish. They’re actually a few years younger than we are.
It seems our neighbourhood is changing in that direction too – fewer school-aged kids are around us, the school bus no longer stops in front where a bunch of kids, ours included, used to hop on. During Halloween, we got only a handful of trick-or-treaters, which has been the case for the last few years. The demographics seem to have cycled back to when we moved in – there weren’t many kids on our street at the time, mostly empty-nesters, our next-door neighbours on either side had young adult kids.
Our friends were curious to know about my transition back to working full-time again, as they’re looking in the opposite direction. Planning longer-term travel, relaxation, and focusing more on themselves. We have those things in sight for ourselves, too, but it’s a bit more complicated for us. I’m actually getting energized in a way that I haven’t been for a while. My husband is enjoying his teaching gig. We’re buying furniture, as we did as newlyweds, to replace dated pieces that are totally out of place after the renovation we did earlier this year. There are still upgrades we would like to do with our place; we don’t even know where we would move to if/when we downsize.
Retirement these days is not the same as it was in my parents’ generation. At my age, my Dad had already been retired for 6 years, and my mom for about 5. At their retirement ages, I was starting a new job; six years later, here we go again. I have other friends who have retired from their conventional jobs and careers, but are taking on different projects, being on volunteer boards, keeping extremely busy doing things they want to do rather than what they have had to do.
So on this last post of NaBloPoMo 2025, I remain contemplative.
A day at a time, a glass (of non alcoholic variety these days … more about that in a bit) … at a time.
For a classic ISTJ, as hard it typically would be for me to not have more of a plan in place, I’m actually ok with it.