The Anniversary

The place was a busy, but quaint little pub, tucked on the edge of a sleepy subdivision, just off the 401. Gently worn, red carpeting, and fresh little tealight candles sat in their crystal holders on the sometimes wobbly, wooden tables. The dark, oiled hardwood panels on the walls kept secrets of comings and goings of locals, friends, and strangers taking in beer, blues, and conversation until the late evening hours. The comfy, plush winged back chairs were tucked in strategically by the cozy stone fireplace, sitting face to face.

I recall fondly, the heartfelt laughs, the oaky wine, the long meaningful chats, as we sat in our spot in that place, with the dancing yellow flames, burning the evening away, much too quickly for our liking.

As the days turn into weeks, and the weeks turn into months, the memories try their hardest to push deeper, and deeper into the boxes, in the archives of my mind. But, I promised myself I would keep some special times alive, and reopen those boxes that mean the most to me, every now and then.

On this date, I purposely curl up in my easy chair in front of the fireplace, with a glass of smoky cabernet. Read the little book of John Donne, with soft blues playing in the background. Once again, my mind visits the romance, the laughter, and the love that blossomed in that quaint little pub, in the winged back chairs, and I wonder if you remember that place, the memories we created, and this date, that we called "our anniversary".