Dashing off this week to get out of town, but I wanted to write a Valentine's Day post last week and never got to it.
Better late than never, eh?
Leaving you with a short story about my favorite Valentine's Day.
I had a six-year old boy and a wicked case of carpal tunnel brought on by too much time hunched over a computer. I was a writer with a golf-ball sized lump on the inside of my wrist who couldn't type a letter without grinding, blinding pain. I couldn't lift my kid or ut a tomato or start my car or write a check to pay a bill.
We'd been going out for about a year when it happened. Why I started to go out with him was because of something he'd said on one of our earliest dates. I was trying to put myself together after a divorce and told him I wasn't sure about having a "relationship" at that point. Besides that, he was seven years younger and I wasn't sure about that part of things, either.
"I bet you have lots of girls you could go out with," I told him.
"I'm looking for someone I can stay in with," he replied.
And you know, being a writer... I had to love such eloquence. And wit.
I learned that when I was talking, he really, really listened. Paid attention not just to what I was saying but how I said it.
I learned that he loved my son and could think up all kinds of fun activities that would never occur to me -- and that when my son told a joke, he would listen patiently and laugh in all the right places.
And he had the best laugh (and still does) that I've ever heard. In fact, I think it's my favorite laugh, so much so, that everyone else's pales in comparison.
So I did go out with him, again and again and again, and then the carpal tunnel struck, and struck hard.
Came over almost daily to do all the stuff I couldn't do -- cut vegetables, get my son to bed, drive to the bank, write checks, cook dinner. On Valentine's Day, he came by with the ring pictured here and asked if I would marry him.
Reader, I did. And never regretted it, not even for a minute.
So, I guess miracles really do happen, and some even happen on Valentine's Day.
But if you're looking for me at a fancy restaurant this year, I can save you the trouble. I'm sneaking off to somewhere wonderful with my darlin' -- staying in.