So, today was our 45th wedding anniversary. We were suppose to be grooving in Newnan, Georgia with Alan Jackson. There was also a surprise party planned for us, or so I was told. There were to be mariachis because every decent party has mariachis.
As I walked down the hall alone, I read this sign and thought, yep. The heart often knows.
This guy decided blocked arteries were more important than Alan Jackson. In forty-five years of marriage, I have never seen him eat vegetables. Not. Even. Joking. But suddenly, I find him eating every last carrot, a few bites of potato and leaving the mystery meat on the plate. Seems blocked arteries wake up your taste buds.
Seems blocked arteries also wake up your sense of humor. The nurses are all crushing on the old man. I mean, the nurses all look to be twelve so......Slow your roll, Grandpappy.
This is the face of my beloved as a small child. My understanding is, this was his face more often than naught.
Funny how some things never change.
There was no Alan Jackson. There were no mariachis or margaritas. But I received the best anniversary gift my husband has ever given me. I received hope of more time together. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, I want more than more time with my husband.
Bob will be having triple by-pass surgery on Monday at noon. We are both scared and shocked and extremely grateful to God for second chances.
Please pray.
