Today would have been my husband's 86th birthday. He died 15 years ago and while I still quietly morn his loss, on his birthday I prefer to remember the happy, funny times. I was first attracted to him because he made me laugh and through the years we had many laughable moments. Some weren't as funny in the moment as they were in later memories like the fight over bath towels on our honeymoon and the fact that we always took one wrong turn on any of our driving trips. The most memorable of those was a time when we got on the wrong road in Quebec and ended up in a little town that looked like it was right out of the wild west, wooden sidewalks and all. There were three old men sitting on the front porch of a general store (I kid you not) and I tried in my high school French to get directions to the campground we had been looking for. The only answer I got, finally in English, was "It's not around here." We eventually made it back to the interstate. Another memorable camping trip was one we took with another couple. The other wife and I watched with a mixture of concern and amusement as the two husbands worked on pitching a big old boy scout style tent. I believe my girlfriend got most of the action on film but I don't know if that epic still exists. We also shopped for red thread in Hingham on that trip. I could go on and on. I have 37 years of memories for which I am very thankful.
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