200 Days of Counting My Loss and Recounting My Joy.

The metric system is based on increments that end in zero. And it really is a far more efficient system of measurement than imperial. (And it is kind of ironic that the US is pretty much the only country still firmly based in the old British Imperial system) And many of us middle aged Canadians are stuck somewhere in-between.

However, universally whether you think in Imperial or Metric, it is customarily or symbolically appropriate to acknowledge and/or celebrate things when they reach dates that end in zeroes. And even more so for double zeroes.

Today, Father's Day 2019, marks the 200th day since my husband, whom I cannot imagine choosing anyone else to father my children, joined his own Dad and his father-in-law in dancing and singing around the throne of their eternal Father.

While I weep here on earth for my own loss and for the loss my children experience, I seek to find joy in the fact that "Father's Day" this year sees the three most influential fathers that I have had the privilege to love and benefit from, be united again.

200 Days.

200 Nights.

Already.

Only.

Gratitude and hope forge the way forward for me.

How is it possible to be so simultaneously filled with joy and sorrow for what was and what is?
200 Days. For two hundred days I have counted my loss. For two hundred days I have recounted my joy. 

Oh Babe, we each felt your presence today on Father's Day as we breakfasted at Whitespot and cheersed you with our coffee mugs while imagining your pride in your offspring as you and Ben stand with the GrampsX2 peering down upon us and urging us on in the journey.  Counting my loss. Recounting my joy.