Beaches Jazz Festival, 2004
Ellie and I have a joke that Daddy can’t see what’s under his nose because he’s always asking us where he puts his things. We discuss how we need to help take care of Daddy and it’s been this way long before we started preparing for a major surgery. In the past week, we took care of Dadda Matt by giving the bedroom a tranquil makeover so that coming home feels refreshing and comforting. All the clutter is cleared and the walls are freshly painted. I put a TV on the wall for the long winter days in bed. While preparing his “recovery room” I considered the irony that for the many years I knew Matt, previous to falling in love, I did not see what was under my nose. That is, until he was right under it giving me a kiss. Since that day, almost 11 years ago, I have loved and laughed because of him. I did not need a threatening diagnosis to remind me of what we have or to appreciate him more. His tumour is my tumour although our ways of managing it are different and cause different side effects. Still, I will never need to look beyond today to hold tight what I know to be the reason life blooms in this house; for today, we both see everything around us.