Memories of Love

She Said

Because the color this month is red, red, red and there
are Valentines galore, I thought I would take a trip down
memory lane about the number of years we've known each
other since that road led to the altar on Christmas Eve.

We met when I was 16 and you were 17. We were both in
a new school in Greensboro and each of us had a significant
other. We graduated the next year and went our separate
ways until 13 years later, when we ran into each other
in a restaurant with our respective spouses and children.

You and I decided to take on the task of organizing a
reunion. We called everyone we knew to begin the process.

From that day on, the reunions took place every five
years and our two families would sometimes get together
in-between. For me, 1995, and for you, 1998, found
both of us single once again. We had our first date a
year after that and you got a real deal: two for the
price of one.

My two older children were in college but I had a
nine-year-old still with me. We tried long-distance
dating for over a year and then I decided to move to
Danville ...no obligations, I told you. Several
months later, you proposed.

Now, with my youngest son graduating from UVA on May 22
and getting married a week later, I'm feeling pangs of
an empty nest syndrome. My oldest son is getting married
October 8 and it seems like a mass exodus in my family.  

But wait...we have Sophie...so you still get to buy one,
get one free. She's no trouble at all...except last week
when she was fired by the groomer. They said she was
too active and after more than five years of grooming
her, they told me not to bring her back. I've been frantically
looking for the right person to take her on and last night
you told me that you found someone on facebook who volunteered
to tackle her. What if they do a background check? We're sunk!




He Said

The good thing is you didn't have to do a background check
on me because you grew up with me. One of the best things
about marrying your best friend is that there are no surprises.
In spite of knowing me so well, you still married me.
I think you summed up our life together pretty well. 
However, you left out the most important part of all: the
way we met, the words that were said, and the closeness we
felt as friends over the last 46 years.

You also forgot to mention, because you aren't vain, the
fact that you were voted the most beautiful girl in our
high school, that you thought I was in a gang, and
that you knew I had a reputation as being the class clown.
All of these facts meant that although we were in school
together, I had no shot at taking you out on a date. Yes,
we did have significant others at the time; however, if
we had been single, I still don't believe you would have
gone out with me. I only weighed 116 in school, was
not considered handsome, was not popular, did not run
in the right groups, smoked, was not on any sports team,
and was constantly being called to the office for some
infraction.

In high school I didn't even know the word infraction
much less how to spell it; but whatever it was, I kept
doing it. Thanks for being my guiding light. You also
forgot to mention that you tutored me my last year of
school to help me pass my English exam so I could graduate
with the rest of our class. You forgot to mention how
helpful you were to all the other classmates and how popular
you were in school. When we are congratulated for our
marriage, our classmates have replied: "way to go Larry for
marrying the most beautiful girl in high school" or
"condolences for Dena for marrying the biggest cut-up in school'.
Either way I consider myself to be the luckiest man on
the universe, and yes, I accept the fact that you come with
baggage.

I just never expected it to have four legs, bark constantly,
and be a creature that steals time with you from me. I guess
I should have done a background check on your obsession with
dogs. No matter though, I still would have married you.

I love you and Happy Valentine's Day.