Many years ago, on December 18th at approximately 7:00 p.m., two particles, spiraling through the universe, collided. No one (myself included) believes in love at first sight until it happens, and then suddenly anything feels possible. Without a second’s compunction, I would have married Kathy that very night. As it would come to pass, we waited a year, marrying on the same date that we met. Our wedding was modest; we staged it at our home, and family and close friends came to toast us amid all our Christmas finery. Some who came to share in our joy are no longer with us. The Christmas season can be a stark reminder that, with the passage of time, we don’t have as many bells to jingle. But I have reconciled that if all I had in this world were a good cup of coffee, a baseball game, and the woman fate dropped into my lap, I would be way ahead of the game.
Below is a photo of Kathy and me. We’re at a Phillies/Dodgers playoff game this past October. The picture was taken before the game when we could smile. We departed the ballpark, grimacing as the Phillies lost a heartbreaker. That night marked one of countless memories we’ve shared over three and a half decades. If I had one wish, it would be for Kathy and me to have met in our mid-twenties instead of our mid-thirties. Nevertheless, I plan to have many more December 18ths. Love of my life, happy anniversary.
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