Thursday, May 17, 2007

Tweet, tweet

I'm not sure I can do this little story justice. But here goes.

Did I tell you the Mystery Woman and I were high school sweethearts fifty years ago?

But she married someone else (as did I) when we were in college. For the next 30 years we had no contact but I sorta kept track of her through mutual friends. She got divorced about eight years before I did. When I learned of her divorce, my first reaction was: did she ask about me? She didn't.

After my divorce, I worked up my courage to call her. Shazam. The friendship was still there. For the next 20 years, we would correspond, talk on the phone and send goofy flamingo presents in the mail. A couple of times, she came to Texas. Once, she brought her long-time companion and they stayed at my place.

About a year ago, we really reconnected when we discovered we were both on the available list at the same time, for the first time. And we've been inseparable ever since. Here's the thing -- everytime I look at her, I see the 17-year-old inside.

The Grand Adventure now includes retirement living in Texas and Minnesota where we outrun the sun. This way, we escape the harsh summers and winters, enjoy a blazing fall and bask in two springtimes since the growing season starts earlier in Texas. I've re-ignited her love of really spicy Tex-Mex and BBQ and she is teaching me to love walleye.

She was diagnosed with cancer before I was. Hers was breast cancer, double mastectomy. Mine was colon but the surgeon caught it early. Thankfully, both of us are now cancer free. I sport a pacemaker and a defibrillator. She doesn't.

We laugh a lot. But we always did. We accidentally wear the same color clothes so often that people think we're on a bowling team. Bicycles, gently ridden, are a new passion.

The Mystery Woman is no dummy. She has written four books on education so her mind is often busy. That breeds quirks. I've only co-authored one book, so I'm not so quirky.

Have I told you how she gave spooning a bad name? The first time we did dishes, she unceremoniously dumped all the knives and forks into the silverware drawer. Unsorted. That means I have to search through the clutter every time I need a spoon.

"I have more important things to do with my time," seems like an omnibus excuse.

Later, if you're interested, I'll explain why she keeps the TV channels written on a 2 x 4 block of wood. I told you she was quirky.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

'bout time you said sweet things about that saintly woman.

ArchGrafiX said...

Yep, I'm interested, for one. I like to hear about others' quirks, kinda like listening to someone's sleep dreams. Always weird. I don't have to live with them anymore, just enjoy them vicariously. Channels on the 2X4...can't wait.

I once had a wife, or should I say, she once had me. She showed me the door, wasn't it weird, no chance in hell (lamented to the tune of "Norwegian Wood).

We were also high school sweethearts, and I know what you mean about seeing the 17-year-old on the inside. My only problem was I saw and constantly heard the 47-year-old Queen of Quirk on the outside. I don't have to hear her anymore.

Congratulations on your new romantic success!

Anonymous said...

George, I may not know much, but I do know you are not without quirks!!! Your Mystery Woman must be a saint. And you are the luckiest Quirky Man I know! Sail on.

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