I am in Toronto, Canada today speaking at the Emergency and Disaster Planning Summit for colleges, universities, and K-12 schools. I am fortunate to have been asked to speak about Teen CERT – a program near and dear to my heart. Even more fortunate though is the fact that three of my favorite colleagues are here as well – David Black, David Burns and Val Lucas-McEwen.
This trip is a quickie turn-around trip for me. I am grateful that I have this one-on-one time with my colleagues even if it is fairly short. We are all so busy in our different endeavors that it is rare that we get dedicated chat time. Yet, here we have it and I so enjoy it – the work war stories, the catch-up on family lives and the easy humor that folks in emergency management are known for – my life is charmed to be sure. Plus, I am in Canada – so I get to roll out my “eh?” at every given opportunity.
What I want to share today though from the great exchange I have had with my pals here is my delight in hearing David Burns speak about his wife of 18 years. The love, respect and admiration with which he speaks of his wife is so heartwarming.
I talk to a lot of folks about their significant others and many of the folks I talk to have long relationships, but it is rare to see this level of love and commitment evidenced in a conversation with someone about their spouse. When Dave talks about his wife I can both see and feel his commitment to her. It is so lovely - I count him and his wife as lucky to have each other.
I want someone to love me like that after 18 years. I want someone to talk about me like I am the best thing since sliced cheese almost two decades of marriage later. The notion of that kind of enduring love remains on my bucket list. I remain hopeful that some day my husband of 18 years will be somewhere speaking about me the way Dave speaks of his wife (heck, I’d take my husband of 7 years doing that – baby steps are okay). Imagine…a man who still loves and adores me after all those years and allows me to be the fruit loop I am – what a lovely daydream, eh?
Day eight hundred and twenty-two of the new forty – obla di obla da