the end of anniversary week (m)

Yesterday was the 26th anniversary of the day T and I got married.  T likes to put thoughts into his gifts for me.  For our 25th anniversary, he presented me with a manila folder with a scanned photo from our wedding on the cover and pictures of Italy inside, segmented into three groupings...city, coast and countryside--"the Three Cs'" as he cleverly named it.   It was to have been a special trip.

As you may recall, my knee problem started around that time and we decided to postpone the trip until they got better or fixed. 

So, here we are, a year later...another anniversary.  T announces last week that, instead of one big event, my present will be "little meaningful things that add up."  I felt a knot in my stomach.

Here's why.  Ten years ago, when I was in the middle of a huge project at work and traveling around the world and stressed to the gills,  my Christmas present from T was a grouping of treats to take the stress out of my life.  The components of this package were: twice-monthly mini massages at my office; fresh cut flowers delivered every other week and the piece de resistance-two nights/three days at Canyon Ranch.

Sounds good, no?

My secretary at the time, a large no-nonsense woman named Lorraine, shows this braless-hippie-earth-mother to my office one day and announces (with full eye roll) that "Miss G is here for your appointment."  I didn't have a door to my office; we had to search for an available conference room.  While kneeling in that massage contraption she brought with her, co-workers would barge in to use the video equipment, check for cookies left over from a prior meeting, etc.  It was horrible.  As was her breath.  I told her to keep whatever money he pre-paid her and that I would no longer require her services.  Made her day.

The flowers were delivered on schedule...regardless of whether I was in Boston or London.  I would come back to an office reeking of foul water, flowers limp and brown.  I looked at Lorraine who said "Hey, not my Christmas present."  I cancelled the rest of the order and got some of the money back.

And Canyon Ranch?  It took 5 years before I found the time to go.  Abby and I and another college friend celebrated our 50th birthdays there.  I had fun despite the fact that the body analysis indicated I was "morbidly obese."  Imagine paying a king's ransom to hear that crap from some anorexic chick.

Much to my surprise, the anniversary gifts this year were all great.   A "date" to the Museum of Science to see a documentary film about Australia (Sam just came from there so I was especially interested to see it); dinner at a fabulous restauarant named Craigie on Main whose chef has won copious awards (Sam did his senior project there and we got a gift certificate--my mother's favorite part of the story was that we paid nothing) and finally, a gorgeous bouquet of flowers from Winston's with long-lasting flowers in beautiful colors.

The note on the card was beautiful.  At the end, T mentions he still plans to take me to Italy. "I haven't forgotten," he says.

I'm guessing I'll be ship-shape by 2012.