8 Great Years

A long time ago, Wifey nicknamed D1 "Rainman," for her scary ability to remember dates. One of us will mention a restaurant, and D1 will proclaim "Yes --we ate there on March 3, 1996."

Well, D1 texted me this morning, and told me that today was the 8th anniversary of moving to our house. I remember it was near Valentine's Day, since shortly after moving in, I brought in food from DiNapoli, our favorite local Italian place, and set up a Valentine's dinner fo all of us outside on the front patio. But leave it to D1 to remember the precise date!

8 years ago. D1 was 12, and in 7th grade. D2 was 9, and a little third grader. We moved in with Midnight, the Marley-like Black Lab, and Alfred, the aging cocker spaniel, as well as the still puppy-like Honey. Wifey was working part time in the flower business. I was a lawyer wanting to do something else.

Now, D1 is finishing her junior year of college, and D2 her junior year of high school. Midnight and Alfred are cavorting at that big dog park in the sky, and Honey has settled into a comfortable old age, still easily walking 1 mile with us daily. We've added a comical Bassett Hound, Molly. Wifey no longer works. I'm a lawyer wanting to do something else.

We've had some tears and fears in Villa Wifey, and some angry words. But always, there has been tremendous love.

We've hosted some fine parties, like the Arts and Sciences farewell to UM President Tad Foote, where I told that impressive gentleman that he visited my dorm when he came to UM in 1981 and now visited my house on his retirement. Wifey hosted a great 40th birthday party for me. We've had many parties for D1 and D2, including a terrific surprise D2 sweet 16 her sister coordinated from Gainesville.

We've had some great New Year's Eves, and Jewish holidays, and thrilling Canes games, and the tragedy of the Fiesta Bowl where the Canes were robbed of a championship by a corrupt ref who, I later found out, WENT to Ohio State, not that I'm still bitter about this 6 years later...

We're amazingly blessed to live where we do. Just last night, Wifey and I pulled some chairs onto the front patio, and drank tea while gazing at gorgeous full moon, framed beautifully through our giant ficus and palm trees.

D2 came home from a dance practice, and actually smiled a little bit through her teenaged surliness. I called D1 in Gainesville and made her look at the moon, too.

I look forward to all being together at Villa Wifey, making some more memories. Dean Martin sang it best: "Memories are made of this."