I’m every woman’s dream when it comes to gifts, truly. My wife is the least materialistic person I’ve met (in case you need evidence, she last bought a pair of shoes two years ago, and the only clothing purchases she’s made for herself in the last six months are two blouses from J. Jill using the gift card I gave her for Christmas). When I was traveling to Asia a couple times a year, I would stop in Singapore and buy jewelry inventory for gifts. I’d been introduced to a jeweler their by a former executive friend of mine, and she regularly gave me the Bob discount on baubles and jewels. Inventory then is distributed for Anniversary, Christmas, Birthdays, you name it.
Our 17th Anniversary came and went with no special gifts. I’ve given my wife a teapot for our Anniversary each and every year, so I still have to hunt for this year’s edition (see all the teapots here on Flickr). Seventeen teapots in all (one given to her on the day of our wedding, and one every year after that).
While most everyone was snuggling down to a USC blowout of The Ohio State University Saturday night, I was sitting across from my wife and her best friend at dinner before seeing the Indigo Girls in concert. South African cuisine Boerwors, Crab Pastries, Biltong, Sosaties with an off-the-menu spice instead of the Apricot sauce.
The Indigo Girls celebrate their twentieth anniversary of recording music this year, and it was nineteen years ago that a fourth-year co-ed at Georgia Tech drove back to Furman to see them in concert for the first time with me. I’ve seen them in eight states over a dozen time, and she’s seen them maybe twenty times. Amy and Emily. They’ve written songs together since high school, which is to say each writes a song then together they arrange it.
Let It Ring (above), performed in Dublin. Amy’s songs are harder, more raw, and hers is a talent that has grown rapidly over these two decades.
Kid Fears (above) was one of the early hits of theirs, here with the cameo from Michael Stipe.
Sugar Tongue (above), a new song on their upcoming indie CD after they were dumped by their record label.
Emily’s songs are more melodic, gentler, stunning in both their lyrics and in their tone. Power of Two is a favorite of mine, and I’m normally drawn more to Emily songs.
Missy Higgins (above) opened for them at Chastain Park, just as she did the night before in Hilton Head (where my wife had flown to see them with her best friend, back-to-back concerts).
This is How It Goes (live, above). Grab her CD’s if you don’t already know her.
Hearing Amy and Emily, they’re such an intriinsic part of who my wife is. The complexities of this lady who was gifted to me, who deserves so much more. A shy woman with a closet passion for vampires. The bookworm is the same, only she’s transformed over these years from the little girl in mason jar glasses to a bouquet who becomes more beautiful with each year. The one of few words who is probably smarter than anyone I know.
I’ve belted out these songs at my wife’s side for so many years. Saturday, I just sat there with my eyes closed most of the evening, a full moon beaming down on us with a few stars in accompaniment. It wasn’t my time to sing, just to drink it all in. Some couples drift away over two decades, and some people change as their circumstances batter them down or set them apart. She is no different, but the woman she has become is so much bigger and richer and deeper than the curly-haired co-ed I fell in love with.
How I found her; well, it was surely accidentally in this huge mass of humanity. How I captured her imagination; well, it was surely a momentary lapse of judgment on her part. How I’ve kept her heart; well, it is surely not for my achievement nor my attractiveness nor my wit nor the depth of my thought. I cannot say. She doesn’t like change, so I’ve had that going for me.
All I know that her touch, her smile, all of it. I treasure each new day she’s still here, each morning she brushes by me, each night I flop my arm over and touch her back. And I think the best days may still be ahead.
