my bead boxes on the radiator while working. I knew it wasn’t, but it was very convenient.
I had a large work table in the 49 year old 2-story colonial that he joined me in when we married.
The radiator, located to the right, was the perfect height and distance away to easily grab a bead as needed.
some hold a lot more and some hold less. That would be 6,800 beads inhabiting the four that were
stacked on the radiator as I worked, and as Greg sat at the PC in the window nook, on said night.
All was quiet until my elbow hit one of the unlatched 34-compartment bead boxes, precipitating its
nose dive to the floor; closely followed (like falling dominoes) by the remaining 3 unlatched boxes.
There was quiet no longer. As the boxes hit the hardwood floor, the 6,800 beads sailed
up out of their confines, dropped to the floor, bounced, and ricocheted around the room.
Some continued into the hallway and a few renegades made it down the steps to the first floor foyer.
The sound of the beads was drowned out by my crying/wailing, which was abbreviated by
those loud catch-your-breath gasps you hear from toddlers having tantrums in grocery store aisles.
Still crying, I plopped myself down on the floor and started picking up each of the 6,800 beads;
dropping them into a bowl to reorganize later. Greg had immediately moved from
his spot to sit down beside me… not saying a word as he assisted in corralling the beads.
No “I told you so”, no eye-roll, no admonishment whatsoever. Fifteen years later,
that night still comes to mind when I think about how lucky I am to have him.
We celebrate our wedding anniversary on July 4th.
I celebrate that he is my friend and husband every day.