Thursday, October 11, 2007

Introducing... my honey.

He's sweet. We found each other after a dance. A month after I had given up on men, then, at my friend Maggie's prompting, wrote a list of what exactly I wanted in a sweetheart. It was a very specific list. It was a pie in the sky list. A no limits list. It included the words: available, chemistry, communicates, dances, and poetry, among many others. In other words, for a 43-year-old woman with three kids and a strong will, it was an impossible list. Or so I thought before I threw it into the hands of the universe and said "If you can find me this, go for it. I'm not settling for anything less." Instead, I settled into fantasies of living single-mindedly for the rest of my life. I wasn't scared of the prospect. It was actually exciting. All that freedom to be me and do what I want and go where I like! For a month.

There I was, talking to my friend Kate after dancing to those Carpenter Ants. There he was, walking by after dancing to those same Ants. Stopping to thank Kate. She introduced us with a twinkle in her eye. We had a conversation, during which I noticed those incredible blue eyes. And unbeknownst to my conscious mind, those pheromones. We parted without exchanging numbers. But I could not forget those eyes. (I'm thinking this was mostly due to the pheromones working their mysterious magic.) I didn't even think about the list.

A month later, we had our first date. It was so perfect I didn't care if I ever had another date. Ever. We hiked through the woods thick with rhodies to a beautiful spot. We had a picnic surrounded by green on a rock just down stream from a waterfall. We talked and talked and talked. We hiked back out in a hurry to catch the band, friends of his. We danced (!) and talked with friends and laughed. We hugged good-bye, smiling. On the way home, I checked off everything on my list. Every. Thing. On. The. List. Except for the poetry. On our third date, I checked that off when he read a poem he wrote for me.

A year later, we married each other. Here is a slide show of that, with our friend, Tom, singing Give Yourself to Love by Kate Wolf.

My honey, Laird. He drinks it all up. He takes it all in. He's FUN. He's courageous. He's extremely hopeful. He's a man of integrity. He's a hard worker. He fixes things. He's game. He writes little notes to me. He tells me his dreams and worries and feelings and thoughts. Honestly. He gives. A lot. He encourages anyone who needs to be encouraged. He listens. He plays hard. He takes risks. He dances with me! He dreams big. He invents. He creates. He enjoys. He celebrates.

So now I am looking forward to sharing the rest of my life with Laird. Singing, dancing, reading poems, riding bikes, raising kids, having conversations, creating fun, and eating home-baked bread with honey dripping all over.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Barbara & Laird,

Watching your slide show, what warm memories returned of your magical wedding and the camp-out prelude! Glad I could share it with you.

Jane