April 12 – “Romantic Lunch”

I had to do some work yesterday morning to complete all the Palm Sunday stuff for church and to pay some bills.  It took me until almost 11:30.  Then I had to stop at the bank to transfer some money out of savings (one of those bills was our quarterly estimated income tax payment.  Don’t particularly want to be late on that one).  Somewhere along the way I had the idea to bring up a nice, romantic lunch to the hospital for Chris and me to share.  But what should I bring?  I stopped in at Sonic for a large cherry limeade slush, just to help me think, of course.  And it worked.  I came up with the perfect idea for that romantic lunch.  What could be better than to duplicate our very first meal together as a married couple?  Ah, the nostalgia of it all.  Supremely proud of myself at the … the … perfectness of it all, I pulled into the fine quality restaurant and ordered the very same thing we had on that fine June 6^th night almost 39 years ago.  I was surprised at how quickly they were able to complete the order, since it was to-go and all.  But meal in hand, I headed on to the hospital, anxious to see the look on Chris’ face when I arrived. 

Everything seemed rather calm when I entered the room.  Mom was in her chair dozing as she waited for her own lunch.  The quick update was: the blood culture is not negative yet, and before her discharge they will have to install a PIC line.  I knew what that meant.  I had one after I got that nasty hospital infection a few years back.  It’s an IV port that you keep in you for weeks so someone can come over and shoot in the antibiotics through it.  On the one hand it is quite handy, but on the other, it is a real nuisance.  But, if it is necessary, bring it on.  Report done, we settled in for lunch.  Chris said she was pretty hungry, so that would be a real plus for her full enjoyment of my idea.  Finally the time came for the big reveal.  I told her about my plan to take her back to that romantic first meal together.  And she laughed.  That’s right, laughed.  Undeterred, however, I continued on.  I reached into the carrying bag I had for the meal and pulled out … the six Jack-in-the-Box tacos.  She laughed again, but it was good laugh.  See, we really did have Jack-in-the-Box tacos for our first meal together as a married couple.  We just had cake and mints at our reception, so on our way to the hotel we were starving.  And the only place we could find open in that bustling suburb of Manvel called Alvin was the local Jack-in-the-Box.  And we had to hurry because the local football game was over and we were told that the place was usually overrun by high school students.  Hey, sounded like a lot of fun to me.  After all I was a youth pastor who had just received a “married man’s raise” to a whopping $35 a week.  But we didn’t stay.  Had to go check out Alvin’s finest hotel with its massage beds.  Only a quarter for fifteen minutes, but be careful.  You might end up seasick.  Too much of a good thing and all.  Sigh.  Memories.

Ephesians 5:28 says, “In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself.”

Father, thank you for the wife you blessed me with.  Give her one of your hugs.  Mine can never measure up to those.  Amen.