Friday, February 26, 2010

Luck - or Skill --With some Patience Thrown in, Too

A friend of mine, who had never actually met Tom, made an off-the-cuff remark on Facebook today that sent me flying down Memory Lane. She simply commented that today is the anniversary of the day she met her husband. I love marking occasions like that. There were years when I'd remember to celebrate our day-we-met-iversary, but we'd realize weeks too late that we both forgot our wedding anniversary. I have one of those year-to-year calendars that you use to mark birthdays, anniversaries, etc. and never goes out of date which has some pretty wild dates marked. (First day Agent 96 sat up unsupported in a grocery cart? It's there.)

The calendar will tell you that Tom and I met on May 10, 1994 (also my dear friend Maurice's birthday, as it tells me every year). We had pizza at Bertucci's in Central Square, then ice cream at Toscanini's (he had Guinness sorbet; I had cardamom ice cream); then he went out of town for a couple of weeks. After he returned we went out a few more times. On my birthday, JUNE fif-FORGODSAKEGETITOVERWITHALREADYWILLYA-teenth, he gave me a peck on the cheek. Just a dry, quick peck on the cheek. Because it was my birthday.

We went out a few more times, but I was growing increasing desperate. Tom's a great guy, he's already told me about his life plan: family, Kwajalein, garden, house, etc., and I'm showing interest; but I can't get even a little spit action? What's up with that?

Desperate for a advice, my friends Tom and Jack from work took me out to the House of Blues in Harvard Square (now long gone) where all three of us got blasted well past wise, or legal, or able-to-remain-upright by the time we were dunn (yes, dunn). But one of them gave me this advice, "Linda, walk up to him, grab him by the scruff of the neck, and plant one on him." The next time I saw him (and after the hangover had abated) we were making dinner at his house. I was cutting beans, put my knife down, and walked across the room to where he was working on the steaks. Boom. My calendar tells me that that was July 16, and we called the dress I wore that day my "lucky dress" for years thereafter. Believe me when I tell you that dress saw a lot of action.

I'm not really strong at remembering momentous occasions. I much prefer to remember the moments.

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