Another Date Living in Infamy

Friday, April 3, 2009

Page 15

AT THE SIDEBAR (Column)

Another Date Living in Infamy

By J’AMY PACHECO

My husband works more than 80 miles from home, and spends a lot of time traveling to and from work. Consequently, much of our communication takes place via e-mail.

A few days ago, I sent an e-mail asking if he knew the significance of the day’s date. His response was pretty sly: “Of course I do! I was wondering if you remembered!”

I was impressed, until I realized that he could be bluffing. So we exchanged a few more e-mails in which he skillfully avoided answering my repeated requests to identify the significance of the date.

But it finally came without me having to give up a single hint: his acknowledgement that he remembered it was the anniversary of our first date — 29 years earlier. I was truly impressed.

If I send my husband to the grocery store with a list written in ink on paper, somehow, he will manage to arrive home with twice the number of items on the list, but always with one key item missing.

“I forgot,” he’ll say.

Some weekends, he forgets that he doesn’t have to go to work, and gets up at 4 a.m. anyway. Sometimes, he forgets to lock the doors before retiring for the night, and once, he forgot to turn off the stove after cooking some eggs.

I’m not pointing fingers — heck, I have to keep a sticky note above my desk with my phone number and address written on it. If there was a Forgetful Department, I’d be in charge. (Of course, I’d probably forget that I was responsible, but technically, wouldn’t that mean I was doing a good job?)

This year, my husband forgot Valentine’s Day. That’s pretty hard to do when signs reminding us to show our love by purchasing heart-shaped objects that sparkle are everywhere — except, apparently, on freeway billboards and Metrolink trains. It was, therefore, quite a surprise to me that he remembered the anniversary of our first date.

It can’t have been that the date itself was particularly memorable — we just went out to dinner. I suspect it has more to do with the fact that we dated for a full 10 years before tying the proverbial knot. Until then, the anniversary of our first date was the only kind of anniversary we had to celebrate.

Realizing that my husband and I have been “an item” for almost 30 years is rather startling. I don’t feel old enough to have been part of a couple that long.

It doesn’t even seem possible that 29 years have passed since that first dinner date. But a lot has happened to fill up those years — some big events, like biennial trips to Hawaii and one to the Dominican Republic, moving from one county to another, and, oh yeah — becoming parents.

Most of the 29 years have been filled with small moments, such as making dinner, doing laundry, mowing the lawn, helping with homework, filling the car with gas, visiting doctors and dentists, and for my husband, traveling to and from work in Los Angeles. It’s amazing how enough of these little moments will fill up 29 years.

Since we have a “real” anniversary now, we no longer celebrate the anniversary of our first date. (Apparently, we don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day, either.)

That’s why I was so surprised that he remembered it. To be honest, I’m sort of surprised that I remembered it, too. It wasn’t written on my calendar, or even on a sticky note above my desk.

While checking my e-mail at sunup, I noticed the date and thought it sounded familiar. Since nobody’s birthday was written on my calendar, I started wondering why it seemed significant. And then I remembered.

I’m not sure what prompted my husband to remember. In light of the Valentine’s Day non-event, maybe it was simply his survival instinct kicking in. I’m pretty sure his vaguely-worded e-mails were a stalling technique that bought him time to do a mental inventory of important dates.

Regardless, he figured it out, and got a lot of husband points for coming up with the right answer.

Just for fun, I think I’ll wait a couple weeks and send another e-mail about the significance of that day’s date. It will, of course, be a date that has nothing to do with anything, but I can’t wait to see what he comes up with.

Maybe I’ll even end up with some sparkly heart-shaped object for my trouble.

Who needs Valentine’s Day when you have guilt on your side?