It took me longer than I had hoped to complete this. I am a day late. May she forgive me.
On Shopping for a Card
There are few options. All born,
whether by mirthful laugh fanfared or by
agony thrust into the gaping bright new empty:
all have a day, all without exception.
Cards to mark these occasions abound like
cans on grocer’s shelves –
but those congratulating
a spouse for the anniversary of our union
are so few, sparsely littered about the stacks like
plastic bags on the side of the road. They are
battered, jumbled up, envelopes don’t
match the cards. The messages are
banal, benign, flat and yellowed as the
paper on which they are printed.
But one stands out. Simple, elegant,
refined, stated with candor and
wisdom, without cheek, without
frivolity. The script curves gently like
a slow river, graceful, serene. The colors are
subdued but warm, as faintly burning embers,
or April sun rising over newly tilled earth. It simply states,
“Love is not in the falling, it is
in the staying.” I buy it, and just
sign it. It needs no addition to its words. (You
know well how mostly I like to
amend what is already perfect.)
Somewhere I know there must be one whose
writer, blinded, dumbed, stumped by his wife’s
glory and beauty, can only say,
“I hope it has been as good for you
as it has been for me.” Until I find it,
this one will have to do.
I hope you like it.