How A Head Cold Got Me Married — Short Version
Now that Im settled, I must reflect on my past as a happy-go-lucky single. How can I forget the many times Ive misled myself into a mans loving arms, and how much I loved every minute of it?
Why, I squirm as if caught in a velvet trapwell, I could, but my second husband is standing right behind me and might ask me what Im sitting on.
I loved my first husband, a wonderfully funny Jew whose parents had fled the Holocaust as kids. After a dozen roller-coaster relationships before my first real commitment, he was the only man I ever truly loved (Remigio, dont look over my shoulder!)
Anyway, several years and sanity-defying relationships later, I landed in a seat in front of Him 2 in a Certified Nurse Aide class, next to a perking coffee pot.
My first husband thought he lucked out marrying his attendant. Gary was dying. I fell in love with his stubborn courage. He was the first person who ever needed me. After he died, I had a tragically brief affair. If I write about everything that happened, itll make an excellent trashy novel.
But Remigio stopped my new single life cold by kicking the...
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