The topic of home is one that weaves in and out of my narrative, a place where I can achieve my true zen, a testament to the environment but more chiefly, the people who inhabit it. You may have guessed that my daughter is one of my most frequent and favourite cameos and you’d be right. My earth angel.
You might also think that the topic of my marriage is one that I shy away from but the truth is, this is one thing that I hold in such high regard, that I treasure integrally for its’ herculean backbone and perseverance and I am cautious of being exploitative, knowing that if she is the topic of conversation-I want it to be unaffected and hearty.
Our story is imprinted in my mind and burns fervently in my heart, internalized and shielded- a form of security to any pernicious factor. Todays leading lady is the second half of my 2 part equation, a woman who’s resilience is rivalled only by her caring nature, charm and sheer beauty.
Our journey began in what seemed to be separate borders, a fraudulent city slicked country stallion meets’ the suburban unbridled mare. Destiny would have it that these kindred spirits would meet through an unlikely mutual source, the Markham strumpet disguised as an auto receptionist. A near life long friend, I will tacitly admit that our perceptive harlot exercised sound judgement, having first handedly witnessed my romantic ricochets and filtering any prospects.
You know who you are.
I can still remember the first picture I saw of you on Facebook, a line up of what I assumed were equally inebriated bar cohorts with you on the far right, tight jeans, exposed mid drift and caramel brown hair flowing straight down your arresting physique. I was baited.
Our journey began as 2 pseudo adults, 2011, 21 and unsure of what life had to offer but sure that we saw something in each other that was worth pursuing. In spite of the distance, travel constraints, and the perspective blending of 2 euro-dominant familial empires, we’ve stayed the course. Perhaps this has something to do with my preemptive, pre-intro liquid courage though I’d prefer to chalk it up to preamble animal magnetism. The music was pulsing, our hearts were pumping and a declaration was made. A stuttering stumbling intoxicated young man testifying to the Sneaky Dees courthouse, “that is my future wife.” What is the measure of a successful not so blind date? I’ll call it two impassioned gemini aristocrats in need of perpetual phone charges to keep up with their incessant attestations of infatuation turned love and…a Belmont.
Throughout the years, we’ve climbed mountains never intended for us, slopes so steep that Olympians would be apprehensive. Our youth is mischaracterized as immature when in fact our experiences told a coming of age, coming of love story. You were there when my heart was deemed defective and needed to be ripped open, retuned and readapted.
Together, we established a home, a lifestyle and a brand that I will triumphantly embellish on everything we own. I am so proud of the woman that you have become, the mother that you fought to be appointed as, our daughters best friend and mine.
You were there to hold my hand through the most devastating news of our life, to tell me it would be okay all the while growing our baby, working full-time and filling in the gaps as a result of my diminished capacity.
You were there in the happiest of times, our marriage, our beachfront moments and the conduit in which our daughter made her awe inspiring introduction.
We live in a world where love is trained to be shameful, affection a near criminal expression in a world enshrouded by stark dark contrasts. I struggle with why this is accepted though I suspect that our hearts are risk averse to vulnerability. What a tragedy.
Natasha, happy 31st birthday my beloved.
5 years married and 9 years since that stellar night, our story continues, an exquisite leather bound book, captivating and emotionally enthralling where we quash our villains and stand victorious, united.
If I didn’t tell you today, I love you – always and forever.
And they lived happily ever after.
The Hopeful Motif 