Walking across a parking lot this evening, my lovely wife stepped on my heel.
She said, "Ouch!"
When we celebrate our 29th wedding anniversary in a few weeks, I'll have to remind her of this little incident.
In the past eighteen months I've attended fourteen funerals, and that includes my daughters this past December. Statistically speaking, the death of a child often results in the demise of the marriage as well. We vowed to become part of the statistical group that stays together a long time ago, and that's a vow we will honor "until death do us part".
We finish each other's sentences at times; we have those scary moments when the same idiotic thought pops into each other's mind simultaneously; we share.
There will be times when I will be writing about depression, because it is a malady that I am well acquainted with. I survive, even thrive at times, because my best friend is always there for me. To this point in time, I've been there for her too, but there are few husbands in history who didn't have room for some improvement.
As I cruised various news sources on the web today, replete with a Russian non-nuclear bomb capable of killing all living things within three miles, I started to make a list of every story that detailed potential threats to life, limb, fin, wing, et. al. - just got plan sick of it after a while and threw the damn paper away.
Thus, I turn to my best friend, my wife, for inspiration as usual, and post this knowing that when she wakes tomorrow morning and has her first cup of coffee, long before anyone else in the house is awake, she will read this to start her day and know that I am blessed to have my best friend as my wife. These flowers are for you:
2 comments:
Very nice.
Tomorrow we will celebrate 27 years and we are closer then ever. She has always been there for me like back in the 80's with my PTSD, supporting my career, retirement, and recently putting up with me and my knee replacement.
I'm fortunate to have one of those too. 40 years worth.
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