My Life Is a Lifetime Movie

Happy Seventh Anniversary, HoneyBunch.

Being married to you is the easiest, most fun, and most magical time of my life. I feel as if we have always belonged to each other; the forty-five combined years we spent with others fade into nothing when we are together.

I never knew what being truly in love was like until I married you.

Baby, you complete me. You are my clone; my soul mate. Scary thought, but true. The person who was just a friend is . . . suddenly the only person you can ever imagine yourself with. You know me better than I know myself. I, of course, am the prettier one.

It was the million tiny little things that when you added them all up, they meant we were supposed to be together. It is like . . . magic. In the movie of our lives, you get to play Tom Hanks and I get to play Meg Ryan.

I’m your density. You know how to make laugh, how to make me happy, and how to encourage me. I am the only one who gets (and appreciates) your jokes. I am here to care for you and make sure you get your daily supply of tomatoes and yogurt. Since God’s time-space continuum is different than ours, it is no wonder it took Him fifty-six years before He led you onto my path. I am not complaining; I am grateful for every minute left of my life I get to spend with you.

When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible. I knew when you asked me to marry you after only six weeks of dating, and we married after only knowing each other for three months, that our life would be perfect from the very start.

I married you so I can kiss you anytime I want. And I find myself wanting to kiss you often, especially when you shower our children and grandchildren with your unselfish love. I find your kind heart very sexy. You should be kissed and often and by someone who knows how - me.

When I look at you, and I . . . and I’m home. Life on this patch of dirt takes on special meaning because you are here, next to me, only a few steps away, all day long. You give my life peace and joy and safety.

My heart is, and always will be, yours. I may not say I love you as many times as I should, but then, HoneyBunch, everything I do is to show my love and respect for you.

As you wish, my dearest HoneyBunch.

Dating Challenged

I stink at dating – always have. I sputter. I hyperventilate. I fail miserably every time. I blame a pathetically underdeveloped gene that got little use before I married in my early twenties, then atrophied, gathering dust and rust, until I became single again in my fifties. I decided to use this defect to my advantage when I needed to do some investigative reporting a few years back. While on a newspaper writing assignment on Boomer-aged dating, I sacrificed my dignity and my vanity for the sake of the story (and I got several). Thank goodness, HoneyBunch saved me from all this when we married. (He comes up with the best dates.) I’ve decided I will “show you mine if you show me yours.” I will swap dating horror stories with you, but you have to promise to play along. The trick here is to tell about your worst date in 25 words or less. You must keep it clean and you cannot name names. Our little contest will run only this week and before my next blogger posting. Me

Happy Breastday to Me!

I gave myself a very special birthday present this year – I had surgery. Before you think it was to increase, decrease, or “lift” something, let me tell you it was not cosmetic (though I could probably use a few nips and tucks at my age; the infinite number of creams I buy OTC are not working their promised magic). About four or five months ago, I discovered a hard lump about the size of a large marble in my left armpit. I had been feeling small pangs of pain in my left chest for several months, but I figured it was just my turn to dance with heart disease. Everyone in my immediate family is diabetic and suffers from strokes or heart attacks, so I thought – here we go; my turn. I was going to tell my internist about the pangs during my next visit, so imagine my surprise when I discovered the lump. The Drama Queen in me immediately manifested herself – cancer, I thought. I have cancer. I searched some more and found that the texture on the left side of my left breast felt diffe

Twelve Female Hero Authors Who Influenced Me to be an Author

In honor of Women’s History Month, I decided to share twelve female authors who changed my life forever and who influenced me to try my hand at writing. Some are not widely popular so you might want to try them out. 1. Charlotte Bront é – English – Her plotting and characters - Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester – are immortal. 2. Louisa May Alcott – American – I loved how she created a family of Little Women that reminded me of my sisters. 3. Jane Austen – English – Another author who knew how to build immortal characters. Two words: Mr. Darcy. Two more words: hubba hubba. 4. Emily Dickinson – American - What a poet! Her innovation was pooh-poohed at first, but now we owe her for breaking all those punctuation barriers. 5. Beverly Cleary – American – She created a little girl in Ramona that reminded me of me when I was a little girl. I wish I had met Ms. Cleary’s books sooner instead of when I was in my 30’s. 6. Judy Blume – American - He

Raquel Martina Martinez

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