A Family Reunion

By the end of a three-day weekend, I took inventory of the only block of quality time spent with my wife. The nuggets of quality time that we spend together in a busy marriage are never enough but lately…it is all we have. Necessity dictated that we be together from morning until evening in a reunion with her family. Operating in tandem no further than one another’s side, the closeness we shared bonded us as a loving couple.

While making communal stops in the drearily chilly weather, my wife’s moist palms repeatedly caressed my inviting hand. I admired my wife’s strength yet supported her weak moments too. We attended a special service at Saint Monaca’s cathedral in downtown Philadelphia. Surrounded by breathtaking stained glass and piping organ music, the sermon’s sacristy fitted the occasion. The refreshing scent of fresh flowers filled my nostrils. A stranger sang an acoustic number on a guitar that was none short of inspirational.

Back outdoors again, raindrops cascaded off us like tears while we strolled through the city underneath a miniature umbrella. Navigating ungodly traffic patterns in the car, I watched the wind whip a hood-mounted flag in our windshield wiper processional. I ran red lights and beeped my horn to get to our destination, a final resting place. The outside world could have cared less about our purpose because we were making them late for life. A short march on foot later, someone handed a single red rose to my wife. I remember thinking that the thorns and petals represent the best and worst life has to offer. Prayers mumbled on our lips where the earth was turned.

The moments stolen alone together were as intimate as they were sad for a rusty married couple like us. We laughed, cried, and remembered. Our lips gently kissed and their firm moist quality moved me through past events in a nostalgic time warp. We did not want to wait for our lives to be over so we relished our hugs. We shared a humorous Seinfeld moment before dining at an Italian South Philadelphia restaurant aptly called Popie’s. The wine and cheer made it feel good to be alive but we remembered our place. By day’s end, it was time for us to say unfitting goodbye to one another as husband and wife…as we did to the dearly departed - David DiNicola - 1960-2008.