My favorite love story doesn't come from a novel or short story. It doesn't come from the movies or a blog or any other form of the written word. My favorite love story is my own.
For a long time I had dreamed of spending my 25th anniversary in Italy. But like most fantasies or, maybe like life in general, obstacles existed. The realities of financing my daughter's college education coupled with the Wall Street collapse had resigned me to a decade of camping and home-cooked meals.
As luck would have it though, out of nowhere my job required me to take a trip to Rome and Milan. On a Monday morning, I got the call. A few miracles later, my mother-in-law was set to watch my younger daughter and my husband had arranged for time off of work. That Saturday, we were on a plane heading for Rome. Our trip to Italy happened a full year and a half before our anniversary, but so what. Like most things in life, not everything turns out as expected. Sometimes even for the better.
We’d had less than a week to plan activities around my schedule, but somehow we made it to the Coliseum, the Vatican, viewed Da Vinci’s Last Supper and spent a day in Venice. It was a whirlwind trip. It was the trip of my dreams.
On the morning of our departure back to the States as we settled the hotel bill with the concierge, the lobby music changed. Of all songs, it was Christopher Cross’ Sailing, the song we’d chosen for the first dance for our wedding. What where the odds that an American song from 1980 would be playing at the exact moment we were checking out? It was indeed true that a canvas can do miracles.
Like all marriages, it has had its ups and downs. In the lobby that morning, I took my husband’s hand as the song lyrics wafted through the intercom. “Just the wind and a dream to carry me.”
“Do you hear that?” I said to my husband. “They’re playing our song.”
Causes Jill Hedgecock Supports
Tri-Valley Animal Rescue, Nature Conservancy, Audubon Society