Darling Sylvia, you are my only one. Beefsteak tomatoes 3 inches across, cut 3/8 of an inch thick, sandwiched between leaves of curly red basil, topped with 2 strips of bacon on whole wheat bread slathered with mayonnaise, cucumbers in sour cream, sweet green (Big Bertha) peppers filled with sausage and rice, zucchini nuked in the microwave and topped with sour cream, bacon bits and salsa for lunch,–these are the scents and savory flavors of a mellow summer. Our children are safe. The grands are thriving. The other night, they wrote their names with glowing sparklers against a star filled sky. Fireflies in the backyard oaks blinked out the message – “Is there an unknown only one in the vicinity?” Sylvia, we are in quiet waters in between life’s inevitable storms. I am soaking up the peacefulness of the now.
Last week at Chamber House, I found the right bracelet to celebrate our 48th anniversary. Getting the right gift to express how precious you are is a daunting task for me. Your smile when you opened the box was my reward. Your response was a lot more pleasant than your response to the box of my favorite chocolates after we started Weight Watchers. You are one fine looking grandma.
In two weeks, we will both be seventy. I never imagined that our seventies would be so good. We have tickets tomorrow for the Rome Braves. We will hold hands and watch this year’s 4th of July fireworks. I am so glad that 52 years ago I got fresh with you in Dr. Potter’s bonehead chemistry lab. You were, and are, too much for this Grayling boy to resist. Like the fireflies in the backyard, I blinked, but I got lucky and found my only one.
I love you Grandma – Eddie Bert