Saturdays are for Stories

Valentine’s Day Love Letter

February 14, 2009

To my dearest lovely Lady,

It may take a while for you to remember who I am, but let me reintroduce myself. I’m the guy who sleeps next to you. Just close your eyes and think of the peculiar smells that fragrance your life at odd hours of the day. Do you remember me now? Good.

Well it is Valentine’s Day and I’m required to tell you how much I love you. This is an easy task for me but not sure you will appreciate it. After all, I was showing you my love when I hid in your yard and watched you at night. I thought you would appreciate having your own private bodyguard watching over you while you sleep. That restraining order was an odd way to show your gratitude.

I’m so glad we got passed that mix-up when you gave me another chance. What choice did you have? Car broke down in the middle of the night with the nearest town thirty miles away. Love had us in its sights. How else can you explain our chance encounter despite the restraining order. I can still hear the first friendly words you spoke to me as if it were today. “I’m out of gas.” Just my luck! I quickly grabbed a quart of gasoline from my trunk and put it in your tank. I still can’t believe that gas doesn’t really come in a quart. Those companies should make their labels glow in the dark for such an occasion. Come on – they are both petroleum products. Count it a lesson learned – cars don’t run on oil.

Just like everyone else we’ve had our ups and downs, our highs and lows, our blacks and whites and our own fist fights (wink, wink). Remember the first meal I ever cooked for you? It was Valentine’s Day. We were out for a…sniff…wonderful day of shopping. First we stopped by the grocery store and picked up the pork tenderloin, as well as a few other choice items. Then we did what you wanted – went to the mall. It was my honor to spend such a lovely 80 degree, sun shining, birds singing, flowers blooming, butterflies fluttering, children running and laughing, sounds of life exploding all around us, not a cloud in the sky February day with you indoors…in tight spaces….with an over capacity crowd…who, no doubt, don’t wash their hands after using a public restroom. Yup, I was honored as if it was a once in a lifetime event – and believe me – It was a once in a lifetime event. I still feel the same sense of joy (panic) whenever we drive by that glorious (dreadful) site. I’m so glad we have clear channels of communication. On a side note: I’m still embarrassed over the whole lost and found fiasco. Who knew you had to be the kid’s parent in order to claim them.

After a full day’s events we went back to my place where I cooked you dinner. My nostrils are still filled with the delightful sickly sweet smell of our undercooked pork. You would think they would put a warning label on pork not to leave it in your car trunk all day. I mean, really, don’t tell me you knew, like its some unspoken rule everyone knows. You can’t know common sense until someone tells you. I do feel badly even though I know no one is to blame here. The bright side is your noxiousness at the mere mention of pork has made our shopping and weekly menu easier to make. How simple things are if you don’t have to worry about pork. Another benefit is now we’re kosher. L’chayim!

The good thing is while you were in the hospital I remodeled the house. What doesn’t tell your lady you love her like fixin’ up the ol’ castle? You would laugh now if you were there. It was a blaze of glory. I still get chills thinking about it – or maybe its the electricity searing through my body. Again, you would think they put some kind of label on positive and negative wires warning against the dangers of bringing them in contact. It seems obvious now, but you weren’t there. All those wires in the wall were a mess. It just made sense to braid them. Well, you did get a new house from it.

Yeah (deep sigh) – that was how I ended up in the hospital bed next to you. That was a great Valentine’s Day, our first, so many years ago now. For Valentine’s Day this year I’ve decided to show you my love by doing absolutely nothing – and I know you’ll love me for it.


The Stud of a Man in Your Life


2 Comments to “Saturdays are for Stories”

  1. Iz,Truly a classic.Ekim Skoorb

  2. Ekim Skoorb,Come into the light. Its okay to admit this story eerily mirrors your own story.iz

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: