Today, July 4th, 2018, would be Julia’s 30th birthday. Though we still celebrate Julia, as we should, on this day, it’s no longer her birthday. Or at least, it’s no longer the day on which she transitions from one age to the next. She is now ageless.

For her, time has disappeared, like a road cut off by an ocean that stretches beyond the horizon. For us, it marches on, and I thank God it does. I used to think it was a ridiculous saying, but “time heals everything” is partially true. It’s missing a few words: “A lot of time partly heals everything”. Not as catchy, though.

Julia in her happy place – four months before she passed away

It’s very fitting that today is extremely hot here in Hamilton. Because on and around her birthday, Julia always wanted to be near water, preferably in it. She loved the cottage, and sometimes she would go on her birthday, having just started her summer vacation as a teacher. But usually she wouldn’t because I, sadly, did not have the summer off as part of my job. And we wanted to be together for her birthday. I’m thankful that she is in a much better place than even the cottage, and that she does not want to be here with me today. But do I ever want to be with her.

So she would deal with the urban summer heat for a bit longer and we would go down to the Hamilton waterfront; often, Sarcoa at the bayfront, followed by a waffle and ice cream at Williams. I’d usually get her flowers and a simple gift. She liked gifts, but she only ever wanted something small. Because we agreed early on that the funds for large birthday and Christmas gifts should instead go toward our next trip. So while we ate our dinner and ice cream waffle we would discuss what our next trip would be; or if we had a trip booked, we’d plan that. 

I’m sure on this, the year of her 30th birthday, it would have been a trip for the ages. Perhaps to Scandinavia (where we wanted to go next), perhaps East Asia, or a hike at Machu Picchu. Again, she doesn’t care about missing this trip. She doesn’t miss anything. She has it all. For me though, it hurts immensely.

But I hope to do these trips one day. And I’m thankful that if I do them alone, it will be because I chose to.