She Who Is Never Wrong marks her birthday, today. I don’t know if ‘celebrate’ is the word we use when we reach her advanced years and as I’ve already had my nose broken three times during the course of my, ah, interesting life, I won’t risk another by telling you the number. I can say, though, that, unlike me, she’s still the preferred side of forty.
Anyway, I got to thinking the usual thoughts that occur on occasions such as these; ‘My, word! Where did all that time go?’ ‘How did it go by so fast?’ etc.
Given the five year age difference, slanted in her favour, alas, and the fact she was still within touching distance of eighteen when first we met, I’ve endured many an ageist jibe over the years. When folk ask how long we’ve been together, she’ll often smile smugly and reply, “Oh, I was a child bride, you know”. Yeah. Cheers for that…
So, as it’s her birthday I thought it might be appropriate to tell you a bit about her.
She’s a five-foot redhead with curves and attitude to match. While she is the kindest, most caring and generous person I’ve ever met, she also packs a lot of temper in her tiny bottle. It’s very rare that the contents explode but when they do, oh boy, run for the hills, sucker!
For all my ostensibly traditional, Victorian and hard-line mode of parenting, The Spawn know who the really scary partner in our little double act is and it sure aint me. Bad cop, terrifying cop.
She is incredibly strong-willed and determined, too. She is, literally, incapable of admitting defeat and accepting something might actually be impossible. I’m hoping one day she might apply that indomitable force of will in pursuit of conquering her life-long inability to say ‘sorry’…
I’m sure she must bear the marks and ravages of the passing years, as do we all, but I struggle to see ‘em, to be honest. I think she’s even more beautiful than she was the day we married. She still excites me, frustrates me, amuses me and entertains me and, like most married couples, we’ve had our share of downs as well as ups. I can most sincerely say, though, our marriage has never been boring.
You see, I’m genuinely lucky in that I found someone who I love deeply, loves me in return, but is also good for me. By some innate configuration of genes or faulty, frontal-lobe wiring, I am reckless, irresponsible, hedonistic and prone to rash, impulsive and spontaneous bouts of appallingly bad judgement. Always looking for the next party and sod tomorrow.
She Who Is Never Wrong, on the other hand, is wise, considered and blessed with an ability to foretell consequences of actions with an unnerving degree of accuracy. Her bullshit detector must surely have been designed and constructed by NASA. It’s flawless. Really.
She’s never been one of those disapproving spouses with only bad things to say about my friends but, equally, many’s the time she’s warned me to be careful of some hail-fellow-well-met type only for her to be proved right as one snake in my grass after another has been exposed and banished from my life before real, long-term damage could occur.
She brings out the best in me. She makes me feel ashamed of myself, on occasions, but without judgment, merely by the example she provides. She has a heart as big as a plate and has a bottomless reservoir of compassion. Better still, surely, is she makes me want to be a better person.
Her support and loyalty throughout my myriad attempts at making something of my life have been unflagging. She has been unstinting in her encouragement of all I have tried and, often, failed to achieve.
I love her dearly and with every experience we share, every laugh we enjoy and every potential danger we safely negotiate, I am reminded time and time again that there is no chance of me ever winning the lottery; I used up three lifetime’s worth of luck the day I met her.
Yes, indeed. A day I won’t forget any time soon. I pushed in front of her at a bar in town. She fixed me with that steely, blue-eyed gaze and proceeded to bollock me from pillar to post. And back again. That was me, then; smitten, lost, irredeemably and irrevocably in love. And I’m still there. How could something so tiny, so beautiful and so adorable be so bolshie? Bless her.
The moment of your birth; a great day in history, to be sure. What might have I become? Where might I have been had I not met you? I shudder to think.
So here’s to you, Honey. Happy Birthday with all the love I have. You had it then, you have it now and you have it always x