Sometimes I wonder if my husband and I are really meant to be. I suspect a lot of couples experience these ambiguous feelings from time to time. It is hard to concentrate on your love life when you are constantly juggling grocery shopping, cooking, and laundry (among other things), never mind a midlife crisis.

The other day I realized that I did not know what my husband wanted me to do with his ashes should he be the first to, uh, go. Was this a sign that our relationship was not on solid ground? We have been married for six years and I figured this is something I really should know.

So I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said looking at me when what he really meant was “where do you get these stupid questions?”

“How about the family ranch in Texas,” I answered smartly. An obvious choice as it has been in the family for generations.

“Uh, no.”

“Scattered into the Pacific?” I retorted, not to be deterred.

“Nope,” as a small smile crept into his voice.

“Mountains in Colorado,” I squeaked?

“No way,” he answered, getting engaged in spite of himself.

I thought about it for a minute. How well do I know my husband? I was ready to admit defeat when. . . gotcha. The perfect answer popped into my head.

“You want me to blow your ashes into the faces of everyone who has pissed you off so you can have the last word.”

“Perfect!” he said as he smiled that really big smile, you know, the one that only comes naturally.

Man, we are made for each other.

By Jennifer Gunter

Labels: Jennifer Gunter

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