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A Christmas I will Always remember

I don’t write too much about my husband, Eric. Here are three things that tell a bit about him: 1. I nicknamed him The Peace Ruiner, and he’s quite proud of it.  His perfect day would begin with Metallica blaring from his alarm, but I nixed that back in our twenties. 2. He’s happy ALL the time! Every day is a great day that he tries to make even better which is really a wonderful way to live. His positive energy inspires me. 3. He’s as stubborn as me! We are two firstborns that like to have our way. When our power is focused for good, we can accomplish great things. When it’s focused against each other, we’re two storms colliding. It’s not pretty.

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It was May of 1990. Eric and I had just met in March, and it was my twentieth birthday. We were living in Los Angeles. He came to my apartment carrying a present. I opened it. He bought me a coffee maker.  I was surprised. My new boyfriend didn’t get me a necklace or earrings. He got me a kitchen appliance. In only a few weeks of dating, he had already learned the important role coffee played in my life. Of course, I thanked him, but in my mind I was wondering if things were going to work out between us. I mean, a coffee maker? Even back then the budding feminist in me (who has grown enormously over the years) did not appreciate a man getting a woman something for the kitchen. Then every morning as I brewed my coffee before work I thought of him. Twenty-five years later that coffee maker holds a special place in my memory. And now he’s the one who does all the buying of our kitchen appliances and handles most of the cooking. I couldn’t care less. So, it was actually a great beginning to our relationship.

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