Strange Joys

Dear Friend,

I found myself thinking of you while I was in the middle of Lake Huron. I know. Strange, since we rarely spend time with one another. We love the same person, and maybe that's enough. But I knew the first time I sat down for a meal with you, you were someone I'd like to know more. Maybe I'll still get that chance.

I think I might have seen 90 year old you. Here was the scene: The Bride and I were hiding out from an activity we'd chosen, having fun playing hooky. She was on a mission--her normal mission-- searching for a local Christmas ornament to hang on her favorite tree. I looked in the door of the store-- it looked like a hot chaotic mess-- and I begged off. "I'll wait out here," I said, never expecting to be entertained.

But then I saw them. An old couple, nearly 90. She was sitting down on a small garden chair, badly in need of repainting. He was standing, stoop shouldered, back bent, hands on his hips, pacing back and forth. When he spoke, the color of his accent sounded like it issued somewhere from deep within the boroughs of New York City. "Are you ready to go yet? We need to get going." She didn't look up. She just pushed her arm toward him, like it had years of instinct from directing traffic at a busy downtown intersection, in the universal sign for "Halt!" No words. Just a raised arm and an upturned hand. And halt, he did, right there in mid-pace. Then I heard it. From her. The longest, loudest, wettest fart I have ever heard. What happened next? Depends. Sorry, couldn't resist. After the echoes of the event had finally softened, she got up, and silently headed down the street. And he silently followed. And I couldn't have been happier I'd been standing where I was standing.

Why did this event remind me of you? It reminded me of that dinner from far too long ago, when, for entertainment purposes, we played "Two Truths and a Lie." I can't remember what your first two your offerings were, but I remember your closer: "Oh, yeah, and I just farted." That's when I knew I was around The Boss. And when I knew I wanted to know more of you.

So two questions and a statement of truth:

Will we know more of one another, and be able to bless one another with the Grace of our God?

Will that become the two of you in the future, where your husband has learned to silently follow because he's learned you know best?

Both answers end in Depends.

One statement? I'm forever in your corner, and I love you, even if it gets incredibly gassy.

thus spake,

me