Our 41st anniversary dawned bright and beautiful today for Mike and me. Who would have known, as we said our vows in his mom and dad’s home in Georgia, that forty-one years later Mike would be desperately trying to wind down the work load and retire. But his customers won’t let him. He has had so much work the past few weeks that he said he should have announced his retirement five years ago.
Also, today is my daughter-in-law Tammy’s birthday. I posted a memory lane message on her Facebook, reminding her of outings we shared riding down the road on a sunny day listening to my Dean Martin CD. Tammy and I are big fans of the late Dean Martin. We sang along with those songs til we got them pitch perfect and could even sing the Italian words. We were ready to take that show on the road. Oh, we were gooood. Uh, huh, HUH! At least to our audience of two. Ourselves.
That VOICE — Dean’s not ours — was enough to make us sigh big sighs, especially the Italian words. Every time I hear them I turn into a puddle. I melt. It’s like he kissed them into the air. That’s the only way I know how to describe it.
So for my 41st anniversary, when Mike gets home from a long, hot, tiring day, I want him to sing to me in Italian. Okay. Ain’t gonna happen. He was born and raised on a farm in Georgia. Can’t you just hear him wrapping his vocal chords around “ritorna me, cara mia te amo”. Okay. So maybe I’ll just settle for “bella mia”. Anybody can say “bella mia”. And I won’t ask him to sing it. Maybe we can just waltz to the Dean Martin CD. Sigh.