Yesterday, August 7th, my husband and I celebrated our 41st wedding anniversary with a nice dinner made complete with tiramisu. For our 25th anniversary trip to Italy, I started a tiramisu quest. Each dinner we had in Italy, I told the waiter that I was on a quest for the best tiramisu. They would give me special treatment and hover in anticipation for my first bite. I found that every tiramisu is its own unique experience.
In Florida with my daughter last week, the tiramisu had a chocolate, nutty icing. Mmm! Who doesn’t love chocolate. Last night the icing was white and light and just right. I enjoyed every bite. So the quest continues.
I’m reading poetry books for the Sealy Challenge and this stanza by Amanda Gorman from Call Us What We Carry moved me.
How Can We not Be Altered?
By a toddler at the table next to us
bouncing in pure delight
playing peep-eye with us.
I share our delight with her parents
who ask, “What is the key to a long marriage?”“Communication,” I say, but know that’s not all.
Margaret Simon, draft
Long marriage comes when you travel
through tough stuff and taste sweet tiramisu
on a mountain in Italy.
It comes with a soft hand
when a parent dies,
a long hug when your heart hurts.
It comes from the grin of your granddaughter
who looks just like the daughter
you created together.
Long marriage is not magical.
It’s marveling at the slant of light at the end of the day,
stopping to take a photo of the rainbow
or the field of sunflowers.
Long love is mistakes and madness,
messages and miracles
every day.
Reflections on the Teche 