Till Death Do You Part
The following e-mail came to me the other day. I read it, re-read it and then came to the conclusion that I had to put it out for you to read and appreciate. I haven’t any advice to give this
man; he doesn’t need it. All I do have to say is, "Hats off to you Harry; keep up the good work!"
Dear Aunt Cynthia,
I recently went out for a few drinks with some co-workers (all male); we went to a strip joint not far from work. One of the men started to whine about his overweight wife, and another started to complain about what a nag his wife was. Pretty soon they had all taken a turn gunning their spouses, and they turned to me, waiting for my main complaint. At that moment I considered lying to them, but I didn’t see why I should; so I began to tell them all about my wife and our marriage.
I told them of a young girl that was barely out of high school when we walked down the wedding isle. I told them of the beautiful young thing that grew plump and
rosy carrying our first child, and of the torturous time it took for the babe to come into this world. Not once did she complain or look for
pity; her concern lay only for our child. I have never been so proud of my wife as I was of her that day
I then proceeded to tell them of the hard times we have had. Times when she would run from the room crying over one thing or another, and I would slam out of our tiny house looking for a fast drink. When I came home, many hours later, too drunk to speak she would help me undress and hold my head on her chest as I blubbered over and over again my love for her. The next morning she was all smiles ready to begin all over
again; all had been forgiven. There had been many of those times over the years, but not once has she ever let me go to sleep alone or without her comfort and love.
Often I’ve found myself wondering why she put up with me, but I always remembered to be grateful for the fact that she had. Once a month every year for
26 years, I have brought flowers home to my wife. I still feel proud and honored when she reaches up on tip-toe to give my cheek a kiss, the sparkle in her eyes is as clear today as it was the first year we were married. When I look at my wife, I see only that wonderful amazing creature that has captured my heart forever. The wrinkles and saggy skin she complains about
are invisible to me. For to us age truly has become irrelevant.
Her sweet smile and sassy frown still tell me exactly how she’s feeling. There were many times I wanted nothing more than to protect her from the cruelty of life. When our daughter was seven, we had a baby
boy; he was to live for only a very short time. My poor wife was beside herself trying her hardest to will the baby to live. I worried so much about her I became ill myself, and she had to tend to me. I felt the fool, but one night after the funeral she came to me and curled up with me in bed. When I took her face in my hands, I saw tears running down her cheeks. My heart broke for her, and all I could do was hold her while she cried. Never in my life have I felt so helpless. I would have done anything to take away her pain, but I knew it was what she had to go through to
survive losing our baby son; his name was Danny. We still go to his graveside every month.
Now we’re looking forward to a long peaceful retirement together. The plans to travel and the places we have always wanted
to see will finally become a reality. We’ve both worked hard towards this time in our life when we are free and able to go have some fun together. Thankfully we are healthy enough to go together and have some fun before our final days on this planet. My wife believes we are both reincarnated and have been together for many lifetimes. I’m not sure what I believe, but I like her idea. To not be with my wife would be to not want to
live; through the years we have become as one; I think this is the way it should be.
As I delivered my little speech, my co-workers sat in silence listening to what I had to say. They all seemed embarrassed and uncomfortable; somehow this made me feel good. I like to think they got my point. I finished my third drink and decided to call a
cab. I wanted to go home to my bride. To tell the truth the only woman that has ever turned me on is my dear, dear, wife, and I wanted her in my arms. I have so much to be grateful for.
To make a long story short, Aunt Cynthia, I went home to my dear wife, and we made passionate love well into the night. I awoke the next day feeling like a kid again. Somehow the magic of our sex life always has that effect on me. I went into work late and didn’t even care, ignoring the looks I got as I made my way to my office.
The kicker to my little story here, Aunt Cynthia, is I’m the president of the company. Due to this fact the next time the boys asked me to join them (and they have to
ask; remember I’m the boss), we didn’t go to a strip bar. Instead we went to a sports bar, and a couple of the wives joined us. We had a
blast; my wife joined us later and by the end of the evening we felt relaxed and comfortable with each other. The conversation was enlightening, and I think great fun was had by all. We’ve decided a bi-weekly outing would be a good idea.
Just a wee note to this—since we’ve been having our bi-weekly outings, it seems production has improved, and my employees seem happier at work. The ‘Payton Place”
attitude that plagues a lot of offices has all but disappeared.
I just wanted to share this with you and your readers. Thanks Aunt Cynthia; we really enjoy your column.
Harry
Dear Harry,
All I can say is it's too bad more people didn’t have your way of thinking. Often we forget the old saying,
"You can attract more flies with honey than vinegar." It seems to work in the work place too.
Keep up the good work Harry.
Aunt Cynthia
Send your emails to: askauntcynthia@storiesbyemail.com.
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