Dearest Sylvia,
I can remember when and where I stole my first kiss from you. It was 49 years ago in front of Newberry Hall after the Delt Sig hayride. You said, “I don’t kiss on the first date,” and I laughed and replied, “Well I do.” I remember your taste—peaches–and the warmth of your lips. I have never regretted that brash move. In this busy Christmas week, let’s try adding at least one one minute kiss into this week’s daily routine. I will let you count the seconds. Remember when we tried a one minute kiss in the Wyoming Snowy Range? We could not make a full 10 seconds without a breath. Some geology professor–I had forgotten about the effects of altitude on the oxygen content of air.
Mistletoe (Phoradendron leucarpum) is used as an excuse to kiss the special ones in our lives. Dr. Oz and the magazines are prescribing kissing as a way to wake up and energize marriages. My primary love language is touch, and I like the idea. We can cost the kisses out as a medical expense (exercising my new nose) on this year’s income tax. I take enjoyment of you as a wonderful gift intended by God for pleasure and for reaffirming our bond no matter how long we have been married. At this time of year, I have once again hung mistletoe in our kitchen doorway and on the front porch hoping to intercept you.
Love you,
Eddie Bert
Note to my granddaughters – Papa Eddie’s advice does not apply to you and, if any boy tries to steal a kiss, tell me immediately.
Note to Couple Friends –
Where was your first kiss?
Are there other memorable kisses?
Find some Mistletoe and make one.
