July 1st is one of my favourite days of the year (if you say you don’t have favourite days of the year, I’m sorry, I can’t comprehend that). Not because it’s Canada Day. Not because it falls during what is usually the best weather we see here in the lower mainland.
I love July 1st because it’s the first day of the second half of the year. It’s an opportunity to reflect on the year so far, and make plans for the remaining six months. It’s New Years Day without the hype or the hangover.
Six years ago, I had the best July 1st of my life so far. Less than two months had passed since my cancer diagnosis. Almost a month had passed since my second cancer surgery. I was doing my best to heal, physically and mentally. Grady was almost two years old, Shawn was off work for the long weekend, and we discovered a hose on the rooftop patio of our condo building.
It turned out that baby Grady loved being sprayed with the hose. He couldn’t get enough. We stayed outside for hours, only taking breaks to reapply sunscreen and eat popsicles. When I am old and grey(er) I will look back on July 1, 2013 as one of the happiest days of Grady’s childhood. His delighted squeals are imprinted on my heart for eternity.