Three Days of Heaven

Castlegar News bi-weekly columnist Karen Haviland is careful of what she asks for

Karen Haviland

Three days. What’s three days in a person’s life? Not much if you are simply marking the days and living each one as they come. On the other hand, three days can be a lesson in life. It can be a tool to open your eyes to those things which are important.

My husband turned 60 in August. His beautiful children gave him a wonderful gift. Anyone who knows my husband knows he is a hockey fanatic. He loves the Montréal Canadiens.

For his landmark birthday, his children bought him a Jean Béliveau jersey and a return flight to Montreal for their game against the Boston Bruins on Dec. 5.

On Wednesday, Dec. 4, he flew out to Montreal to meet up with his children who were joining him there for the game and some sightseeing as well. Just a note of interest, while my husband is a Canadiens fan all the way, his son is a diehard Bruins fan who despises the Canadiens.

As most of you likely know, I am not a hockey fan in any way, shape or form, especially after gamely enduring months of hockey, hockey, hockey on the television.

The thought of having just over three days to myself (sans hockey) was exhilarating!

My husband and I spend a lot of time together. For the most part, we are together 24/7 and we both enjoy that. We have a lot to talk about, we have great, thoughtful discussions and we both enjoy the other’s sense of humour.

Simply said, we have a great time together. We are each other’s best friend. It’s not just a cliché – we really and truly are best friends.

But the thought of having those three days alone eating what I wanted, when I wanted and how I wanted and doing whatever I darn well wanted (all the while with hubby’s beloved remote in my hand without interruption) was pure bliss. Three days of me, me, me!

I was picturing it in my head. Three days alone! Let me hasten to say that my husband is a wonderful man, and there is nothing wrong with him per se, but I am sure those of you in a committed relationship understand that eating candy, all day, every day, non-stop sometimes leaves you hungering for a simple glass of water.

That birthday gift was my refreshing drink of water. Or so I thought.

The morning the Mister left wasn’t what I expected. Not in the least.

As I watched him packing his bags and readying himself for his adventure it suddenly struck me that he would really and truly be gone for three days. Let me tell you, I warred with my conflicting emotions. Then, as I watched him walk out the door, the reality struck me hard as I realized that never, in our whole time together, have we spent three days apart.

I realized at that moment that things were going to get interesting.

Prior to him leaving, I told my husband not to worry about me, I’d be fine. In fact, I advised him against bothering to call home, but rather take all the opportunity he could to treasure every single second with his children. I thought we had agreed upon that. But I was mistaken.

Men never listen, do they? Sure enough, he called me the very next day and I’m not ashamed to say that I was so very glad he did.

I had missed him and let’s face it, his remote is not anywhere as interesting and endearing as he is.

Now, I’m sure my teeth are going to rot because I learned that I’ll take that candy any day over the water. I missed him more than I could have imagined.

And here’s another cliché for you, the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.

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