He had packed a picnic full of our favorite things, a feast! Double cream Brie, chorizo, fig and olive crackers, limonata and the finest chocolate (read: reese peanut butter cups).
We walked to the edge of the waterfall and stared at the spectacle. Stone walls worn away by the passage of time, the procession of water. It was hypnotizing watching the placid river reach its inevitable conclusion, hurtling over the edge and smashing into a fine steamy mist.
We walked Gus around Whistler Village and were stopped every few feet by children trying to pet him, tourists who wanted a picture of the beautiful beast, the gentle giant.
Later we headed to a nearby lake. Sitting at the edge of the dock I dangled my tired feet in the icy water, chewing on crackers and cheese, listening to Adam make small talk with two fly fisherman nearby. Gus waded around in the shallows pawing at sticks and swimming slow lazy circles.
This was our anniversary, our celebration.
There were no diamond tennis bracelets, no roses or champagne. It wouldn’t have fit, would it? The best advice I ever received was to spend out, to spend on experiences instead of things. So on vacation we get cheap hotels but fun adventures.
At home we don’t usually buy gifts because at some point I will look back on this day and instead of a piece of jewelry I will remember the heat, the newlyweds we met at the waterfall, brimming with hope and glee, the woman who had tears in her eyes when she met Gus because her mastiff had died.
We’ll remember sitting on the dock lazily stuffing our faces, watching the paddle boarders and fisherman.
We’ll remember that we enjoyed just being in each others company. That’s enough.
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