Anniversary

Forty four years ago, Dan and I got married on in Winston Salem on a hot, clear day. My late brother officiated in a small ceremony in a nearby Baptist church (about 50? ppl) and my mom made lasagna. Our reception was held in my parents’ kitchen with my precious family and friends joining us. After opening our presents and eating a beautiful wedding cake, upon which my dad placed a gardenia,, we loaded up my 72 nova and drove to Dallas in a car so hot the champagne bottle packed away exploded on out marriage license. At that time I would have never dreamed i would become a lit doc or that Dan would become an oncology doc.And neither one could have imagined that the supreme court would be going rogue at this time. Or that my brother would be killed in 2003.

Now 11 houses, 3 kids, 5 grands, 3 dogs, published poetry and shared cancer, here we are. it’s been a good run.

Today i’m melting from the heat and Tuesday’s chemo. Dan and i will go out to dinner tonight and that small thing will feel like a miracle.

I’m sharing this lovely poem that says it all (thank you Donna Doyle) .

Summer Kitchen  

In June's high light she stood at the sink

With a glass of wine,

And listened for the bobolink,

And crushed garlic in late sunshine. 

I watched her cooking, from my chair.

She pressed her lips

Together, reached for kitchenware,

And tasted sauce from her fingertips.

"It's ready now. Come on," she said.

 "You light the candle."

We ate, and talked, and went to bed,

And slept. It was a miracle. 

Donald Hall

from The Painted Bed