This past Saturday, Dave and I went to a fundraiser put on by a neighboring county’s arts council. They do this annually. It is called Pasta and Pottery and with the price of admission, you get a piece of pottery, appetizers, a pasta dinner and an auction. We have always wanted to go. Scratch that. I have always wanted to go. It has never worked out before. Dave in his kindness and generosity squeezed it in for me this year. I say squeezed because he was out of town Friday into Saturday and awoke at 3:ooam this morning to go to his photography convention. To add to it, he slid off the road on the way home from his trip yesterday and while his car was fine and drivable (just stuck) and he was fine, he could have requested a scrapping of the evening. I offered. The evening was okay. I thought this was my speed but not so much. Our pottery pieces were beautiful, the dinner was delicious and the items being auctioned were lovely but it was packed and we knew no one and I suppose small talk social gatherings just aren’t my thing. Dave and I split off for a bit and when I found him, he was squatting down next to the evening’s entertainment chatting.
Flash back 9 years. Dave and I found eachother online, but quickly moved to “in real life” dating. Our first date was perfect from beginning to end. Hollywood could not have written a better day. He took me canoeing. He packed a wonderful picnic lunch with all of my favorites – strawberries, shrimp, salad, and his roasted pork. We leisurely paddled for a few hours and landed in the heart of a quaint riverside town near us. I thought the day was over. It would have been perfect as it was. But he had made a thermos of mocha lattes and pulled them out of his vehicle and we drank them and ate more strawberries in a park next to the river. The next thing that happened is almost movie like. A gentleman on a bicycle rode up and sat on a bench near us and yet across the park. Out of the blue, he pulled out a flute and started playing songs like Always and Forever and Color My World. We saw him in the park one other time. We often wondered about him. We asked around in town about the gentleman on the bike with the flute. We lost him. We wanted to hire him for our wedding but no luck. That perfect day laid the foundation for our beautiful friendship.
Last night at the fundraiser, there was a flute player – our flute player. We know his name. We told him our story.
He was at the beginning of the first chapter of our life together and it has come full circle as we embark on the next chapter.