Saturday, October 27, 2012

Rescued From Halfway Down A Shallow Grave

My fate was sealed before I met you darling
I was halfway down a shallow grave
So little room for you to catch me falling

It is not an exaggeration - not even by a little bit - to say that Margaret saved my life.  In fact, it is not even the half of it.  She not only saved my life.  She opened my eyes, my mind and that little crumpled-up piece of coal buried in my chest to the concept of having a life.  Had I not met her I know not where I would have ended up.  I have every reasonable suspicion though that the journey would have been much less enjoyable than it has been thus far.  I have almost as many reasonable suspicions that it would have ended quite a long time ago but for her.

Today my life's great love is celebrating her 50th birthday.  It has been my great joy and privilege to have been part of her life as she has completed twenty-plus trips around the Sun.  She has approached today as she has approached every one leading up to it:  with a smile on her face.  The written word - both fiction and non-fiction - is replete with references to the efforts to which women go to avoid the mere mention of their birthday.  Not Margaret.  Her take on it - while not unique perhaps - is most assuredly extraordinary.

While I shall spend a portion of my day at the office, the Missus shall spend her day in the company of two of her closest friends doing something that she spends scant little time doing:  shopping for herself.  Today begins the quest for a "Mother of the Bride" dress, a quest on which she shall be joined by the Sisters Kizis.  Inasmuch as this is a topic about which I have as little to offer as I do on most topics, I shall be the best possible place while they are on their quest:  somewhere else entirely.

This evening we are going out to celebrate the "Big 5-0" with the Sisters Kizis and a few other near and dear friends.  The jackass to whom Margaret is married is so incompetent that while he wonders if she will wear her birthday present from him to dinner, he will not know if she is unless she tells him.  Apparently I bought her a beige sweater.  Yep.  A beige sweater.  At long last the life-long search for a middle name is over.  "Mr. Excitement" it is.  It suits me.  I am sure you will agree. 

I hope that today is indeed a happy birthday for my bride.  I know that she is saddened by the fact that while both of our adult offspring are healthy and happy neither of them is currently in possession of a zip code here within the geographical boundaries of the State of Concrete Gardens.  Whoever penned that old saw about the interplay between absence and fondness has never spent one day - let alone a birthday - in Margaret's company. 

Pretty incredible how this life has worked out for me.  'Tis her birthday.  Yet I am the one in receipt of the present....

....every day. 

If all men are equal
This must be against the law
'Cause I can't help but feeling
I'm one up on my brother when night falls.


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