Remembering important dates is one of my less used skills, which must explain why it has atrophied. This thought occurs to me twice a year, as my wife and I celebrate both the date of our marriage and the date – you could call it our first and only date – I waylaid her in the apartment building we both lived in and we spent the night talking.
Yesterday she told me about one of her co-workers, who this year forgot his wedding anniversary while his wife naturally didn’t. When he was helped to awareness of this unfortunate fact, he quickly attempted a save of the sort gifts or cards were invented to help effect. “Don’t bother,” she told him. How nice that we could laugh about this even as I scampered away from the scene of my own error.
Now it is time for me to count backwards, as you do before an operation.