It’s kind of a clumsy number. I was thinking about that, clomping through City Centre today in my heavy Keen’s loafers, my backpack stuffed with forty pounds of library books and my keys hanging out of my pocket. Fourteen is a clumsy number. It lacks the portent of thirteen and the smoothness of fifteen. It’s jagged, awkward, oddly placed. It’s a stepping stone from whatever was to whatever is next. You know?
But when I bent my body – stiff from a week of constant, constant, constant study – to tie the fraying shoelace on my scuffed loafers, and I overbalanced from the weight of the pack on my back, I knew that if you were there with me, you would’ve had your hand out to help before I needed it. You would have caught me before I fell. And you would’ve made that smile you make when you know I’m probably going to be mad at you (I am perfectly capable of getting up myself) but also that you’ve done the right thing. And I probably would have smiled back. After I gave you a gentle shot to the gut for not-quite laughing at me. Because I also happen to know that if you had been there, and if I had let you help me up without at least some resistance, you probably would have fallen over, too. And we would have both been crashed out on the muddy mall floor, lightly concussed from the stack of picture books and laughing like idiots.
Which is pretty much the story of our life together, when you think about it. Falling, followed by laughter and mud and narrowly avoided concussions. Giggling in love. Cackling about life. Smiling through the tears that happen when things are so very good or so horribly, horribly bad. A hand held out to grasp, when we’re ready, to walk until we fall again on this bizarre comic road we’ve made for ourselves.
Fourteen years ago, February 10th, I walked across a frozen street in a slip dress and Keds, and you held out your arm so I wouldn’t fall. Of course, I fell anyway, every day, for five-thousand-one-hundred-and-ten days and counting. Laughing, I still catch your hand. Fourteen is an awkward number, but it suits us, I think…. I might consider letting you carry my bag, when we get to twenty-seven.
Happy anniversary, my love. You’ve got this skeptic 99.9% convinced that true love lasts forever.
Speaking of #14, that’s the number of the left-side, upper molar, second from the back in our mouths. That is if you’ve had your wisdom teeth removed. Otherwise, it’s the third from the last tooth on the left upper. Any ways, twill always be an unlucky number for me, as it’s the first & last abscess I ever wish to experience. Began with a root canal, which I was assured I needed over an Easter weekend. Dentist went out of town & left me with the worst pain you might imagine, outside of childbirth, possibly worse than childbirth; fever, nausea, headache, all to the tune of a memory set firmly in place. Must have been dirty dental tools. Could not have been just “what sometimes happens with a root canal”, as I was assured by the culprit. Oh well, life marches on & I remain alive to tell the story, even though I was sure I would die at the time.
By the way, I do continue to follow your fine postings, not always commenting but always reading with great interest. You’re one of my favorites here on WordPress. I admire your busy life, beautiful children & what has to be a very patient & loving partner…
fabulous, you guys are so cool. I remember that story of how you met.. c
((hugs)) Thanks, c!
nice post. I like your play on numbers. and thanks for reminding me it’s almost V day! argh! We’ve been snowed in so long and kids still out of school that I hope I can get some cards!
I found some online and printed them onto cardstock. It sounds horrible, but I know that most of them get trashed or thrown away within a few days, so I don’t make my kids put too much effort into them. Ironically, my husband and I don’t celebrate Valentine’s day!
so love reading what you write
((hugs)) Thanks, Shonnie. So happy to hear that.
You really have a beautiful style. :D You are so welcome.
Beautiful :) Congratulations, you two!
Thank you, Speccy. He’s lucky to have me. ;-)
Happy 14! Happy every number!!! True love? Oh, yeah. It’s for real. :D
Thanks, Kathryn!
No words, just smiles!
…….wait did you say Keds. Canvas shoes in February. Come on give the guy the other .1% he’s deserving . He must be ‘right sum jesus good that lad’. That is like wearing flip flops in Iqaluit in any month. An omen, anywhere but Canada.
Hahahaha! I know, I know. I was also wearing a blue flannel shirt for a jacket, and I think the temperature was in the balmy minus-twenties…. Yeah. I’ll give him the .1%. He is deserving. =D
I really love your “voice!”
That, and congratulations to you both!
=] Thanks, t. You’re a sweetheart.
Beautifully written!
Thanks, Strawberry. I’m glad you liked it.
absolutely lovely….
Thank you! I’m a lucky girl.
Love it.
Thanks, A. :-)