Anniversaries

where the adventure began - July 1, 1984

Ter and I moved into our current abode on August 1, so our residential fiscal year ends on July 31. That means our final rent cheque for the 13/14 cycle will be cashed after today’s stat holiday. I wouldn’t mention it except it so happens that our very first mutual rent cheque was cashed on the same day thirty years ago.

Thirty years.

Yep, Ter and I became roommates on July 1, 1984. Who could have predicted that we’d still be together three decades after we signed the lease on suite 408 at the Landmark building in Sidney-by-the-Sea?

Not us. The plan—in my mind, anyway—had been to share expenses until one of us (probably Ter, who was blonde and beautiful and so freaking pulled together) found Mr. Right. The universe obviously had other ideas, since that paragon of priesthood perfection never materialized, and after all this time, I can honestly say, THANK YOU, UNIVERSE!!!

I should also thank my father, because it was his idea. Faced with the terror of acquiring another twentysomething daughter when the one he had was showing no sign of leaving the nest, he quietly suggested to me that, “Perhaps you two should think of getting an apartment together.”

Well, duh. Therein lies the danger of parents making their home too comfortable for the children—I was twenty-two, had a fulltime government job, and no inclination at all to get my own place. Ter had come back from Edmonton and was living with her folks in their ground floor apartment. She, by comparison, had been on her own since she was seventeen, so when I told her what Dad had said, she was all for it. Thus began “The Ongoing Adventures of Ru and Ter”.

Her childhood experience was in direct contrast to mine, so we each brought unique neuroses and phobias to the party. As we have grown together into adulthood, we’ve sorted through our mutual crap and found our singular magic. We have helped each other to become who we truly are. We’re not done yet, either. There is so much more growing and nurturing and sharing to accomplish, feats that couldn’t be achieved by either of us in company with anyone else. And when we operate as a team? Don’t ask questions, just get out of our way.

A popular (and horribly romantic) misconception is that a girl will marry her soul mate. This is not always so. In fact, it may be less frequently so. Soul mates come in many forms. We travel through time together and take on different roles in each phase of our progress. Whatever she has been and whatever she will be, this time out, Ter is my sistah. My teacher. My yardstick. My cool inspector. My house elf. My guru. My heavy-lifter. My bodyguard. My reality check. She says I never drive her crazy, so I’m unsure how she perceives the condition, but when we argue, we argue from ego, never from spirit. The square root of our relationship is love. Pure, positive, unconditional love.

Could either of us have survived the past thirty years with Mr. Right? Or anyone else, for that matter?

Maybe. But it wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun.