35 years and some days ago I was married.
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35 years and some days ago I was married.
This year we celebrated our 35 in Venice, a magical city close to our hearts.
We had travelled first to Venice in our early 20’s. I am there again, but this year I am all grown up.

It could have been entirely different.

We planned our anniversary trip months ago, we decided on the venue and where to stay. It was locked in the diary and was not to be disturbed, except he had forgotten to collect his one and only passport and that meant no flying, no Venice and no celebrations. There was not a lot to say as he stumbled through the telling of this disaster.
Saturday morning came and I was heading to Heathrow alone thinking how I would spend my time in Venice. Acceptance was the best choice I could make and besides who would waste a trip to Venice" Not me.

I was going to write, I mean really write with a pen – a proper, beautiful pen with a nib to make ideas blossom and words flow. I was going to sit in “our” magnificent surroundings and make my journal happen. I thought fondly of my father who never went anywhere without his Parker pen, I reflected on my first, a gift for my 21st birthday and I felt teary when I remembered it was the same pen we used to sign our marriage certificate those 35 years ago. “Stuff” gets in the way of what we want som...