It's been three weeks today since I had my surgery and it's been 33 years today since Glenn and I got married. As far as the little annivesray goes, I'm walking a few steps on the abused foot, but not putting full weight on it. It seems to not appreciate action--and tells me so by swelling, so I listen and use the knee wheeler after a few steps.
How about that other anniversary? In 1977, we talked about getting old together, but it was just some cloud-infused, lovey-dovey talk then. I remember talking about how we would rock on the porch together when we were grey. Now, it's a reality. About one hour ago, he said "Want to go sit on the porch?" Of course, the grey part isn't reality...if you discount Glenn's beard and ignore that one of my big adventures today was using Lady Clariol.
I'm not sure what our spouse standards were when we found each other. Now, I would say that I'm glad I married someone who makes me laugh, remembers to ask me if I need anything when I can't move around, irons an even crease in my jeans (ironing jeans??!!!) and loves me when I haven't worn makeup in three weeks.
I wish you all the same happiness.
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