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.

Romance ...In the Beginning

She Said He Said August 2009 Romance…In the beginning.
Evince Magazine

She Said

When I woke up this morning I started thinking about you.

Before your ego jumps off the scale,

let me finish. I started thinking about how romantic you

use to be. I mean, you love me and I love you

and all that, but what exactly happens over time when the

romantic gestures that you made in the past

become old hat? Why can't you be romantic like you were

when we first started dating? The first time

you came to my house you brought me flowers and sent me

love notes almost daily. How long has it

been since you sent me a romantic card to tell me how

much you care? You called once or twice a day

when I lived in North Carolina. Have you forgotten an

$800 phone bill one month? You use to drive

down to Greenville on Wednesday’s at 5 pm to take me

to dinner. That was a 3 hour drive for a 2 hour

dinner and a 3 hour drive back home. What about that

internet arrangement you made with WBTM so

that my family and friends from all over the United

States could hear you propose to me on the radio?

That was beautiful and made me cry. Don't get me wrong,

I have not forgotten all the things you have

done for me over the years and the times you have

whisked me off to New York or the beach . I

appreciate those excursions and since you were going

anyway I just tagged along. (Just kidding. You

begged me to go every time). Don't even get me started

on kissing. Now, Sophie my poodle, gets

more kisses than I do, but unlike her, I don’t leave

a puddle on the floor when you kiss me!




He Said

 
I’ll give you this, when you get wound up on a subject

you go for the jugular. Let's look at this
 
so called problem that you have with our romance, or

lack of. When I came to Greenville, N.C.,
 
you were sitting on the couch, dressed to the nines,

not a hair out of place, smelling like a rose, and
 
a candlelight dinner was prepared with fresh flowers

on the table. The night was not only romantic,
 
but everlasting. You even gave me a handkerchief soaked

in the perfume you were wearing that night
 
for me to take with me on the 3 hour drive back home.

What a pleasant reminder of the evening!
 
Today when I come to your house after work, I don't have

the long drive; I don't have to call long
 
distance to tell you I am coming over. Since I see you

everyday, I just feel you know I care about
 
you without bringing flowers or sending a card. Now compared

to the first days of dating and today,
 
what do I get? I come to your door, I let myself in, the

dog barks for my attention, so I give her a kiss.
 
I holler out for you and you yell back that you are in

the basement, your hair is a wreck, you are

sweating, and  you say don't touch me or you’ll get wet.

You have on old sweat pants and t-shirt. That’s

a far cry from being all dolled up and waiting for me at

the door with open arms. You suggest I go buy

a pizza for supper since you are so caught up in your work. 

Of course you can't go to a movie tonight

because you have papers to grade or you need to paint

the kitchen.

Where in that description did you find room for me to be romantic?
 
No, I think you need to start a new revolution with your

women friends. How about the “Preservation of Keeping Romance

in My Relationship” ? You could start with greeting me
 
at the door, tea in hand, dinner on the table, dressed to

the nines, smelling like perfume
 
instead of paint thinner, and a desire to lead me to

places I have never known before.
 
What a fantasy....I'll run on down to the pizza parlor now...

Honey Darling Dear.

March....or Something Like It.

She Said He Said March 2009 By Dena Hill and Larry Oldham

She Said

I have a love/hate relationship with the month of March. It is true
that the March winds bring in the springtime. I love that part of the
month. The part of the month that I hate is the time of the month
that I am forced to tell you my monthly plans. March always is the
time of year that I start making out my list of springtime chores that
I want to accomplish. The weather is usually getting warmer, the
trees are getting ready to bloom and it is time to start planning
my gardening, painting, and in general getting ready to get
the house fixed up for summer and all that that entails. The
hate part is the dread of sharing all of this with you. You
always start whining about the “honey do list, why do you
have to help do all these things “, you ask.
This year I am not even going to tell you what I am going
to do, I am not going to ask you to help me, and I have
thrown the “honey do”jar away. So you can relax this year,
I will take care of all the springtime work, and you just
rest up for the coming summer months deciding on
where we vacation, what movies we will see, where we will
eat, who will drive, when we must visit your mother, what
to wear, what book to read next,should you pay someone to
cut your grass, you know all the important decisions
in your life.

He Said

I really don't think you understand how hard I work,
and all the decisions that are important that have
to made in my daily routine. Yes, March is a hard month,
but so was January when you couldn't decide which tile
to lay down on your bathroom floor, or November when
you had to paint the ceiling in the living room, or
September when you had to move the furniture around all
over the house. I mean, look, I know the house is
important to you, and it means a lot to me that
everything is always clean , and the house is always
spotless. I don't want to sound like a male
chauvinist pig, but all that women's need that you
have ,can be taken care of ,as I told my ex-wife, with
a phone call to a cleaning service.
I don't understand the need to clean every spring, mess
it up every fall, and clean it again next spring. All
this cleaning talk is really giving me a headache. Why
don't we just skip this March madness of cleaning,
go get some ice cream, sit on the porch, or go cook
out some steaks.
If we don't invite the neighbors over this year, and we
avoid all our friends , so they won't visit us, who is
going to see the house , dirty or clean , except us.....
and maybe the dog. Have you ever heard the dog complain.
No,I didn't think so. We can all be happy if we work
together on this thing, re-evaluate our priorities, and
learn to live together in harmony. A few germs might help
build up our immune system and help us live longer. On
the other hand we could clean, which could give
us a heart attack, might give us a stroke, or could
affect our immune system by being germ and dirt free,
which could expose us to all kinds of health problems.

I rest my case.