Alexandra Elizabeth Waterhouse-Hayward - A ValentineThursday, February 14, 2008
Our lives are full of tragedy. And the biggest one for me is an awful regret in the knowledge that I never really told my mother or my father that I loved them. I have made up for lost time by telling Rosemary not only that I love her but I am constantly asking her if she is ok. It drives her crazy. After 40 years of marriage I can assert that I feel a great glow of satisfaction in my affection for her. One of the advantages of this is that non sequiturs rarely happen when we talk. I might be looking out of the living room and say, "It has to be moved." Rosemary without looking out of the window will finish, "because that Rhododendrum racemosum is not happy there."
Since Alexandra, 38, moved to Lillooet I have been thinking a lot about her. I talk with her on Skype or we have video conversations in MSN and she always signs off with, "Te quiero mucho, Papi." (I love you lots). When Rosemary's situation at work began to look shaky Ale (as we have called Alexandra since we lived in Mexico City so many years ago and that was what her friends called her.) said that she thought she could contribute with $500 per month. Rosemary politely turned her down but glowed inside at the thought that our daughter does care for our welfare.
I have become close with Ale and I confide in her as I may not have in the past. Paradoxically the geographic distancing has been a godsend. I really miss her and I always look forward to our expeditions to Lillooet with Rebecca and Lauren.
I appreciate in more ways than Ale will ever know (Or I could be wrong about this.) that she constantly tells me how she loves me. Both Rosemary and I feel reinforced when Ale tells us how grateful she is that we insisted she finish at UBC or that she not drop her guitar lessons.
I feel lucky and revel at the fact that I know all the above and that it is not too late to tell my Ale that I love her. And this I do.