Last Wednesday, Travis and I had trivia, as we do every other Wednesday. It’s Trav’s call night, so it’s a difficult night to have trivia for him. Last week, as has become his routine, he flew into the bar half way through the first round. We take notes on the questions we don’t know, so we can bounce them off of Travis whenever he flies in. He never drinks alcohol (obviously) and our regular server, Mallory, gets him his usual beverage without even talking to him. But Travis may leave trivia night without warning or explanation. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he is out the door. Sometimes he returns, sometimes he doesn’t. It’s funny that our trivia team has gotten used to this, much like I have. Last Wednesday, Travis flew out the door as we turned in our last sheet, so he didn’t know that we won! That was convenient for me, since I could keep the winnings. 

The next day, another math teacher (who also happens to be a trivia partner) asked me if I had asked Travis something she wanted me to ask him (I don’t remember what). I said no. He never came home. He didn’t call. Something always clicks in my brain that this should be weird. Ever since Find my i-phone became a thing, I don’t worry about him lying dead in a ditch on the side of the road. I can see that he is still tucked safely in, at the hospital. When I wake up, and he is not there, I just go to work as usual. On Thursdays though, I have to get the trash cans down our treacherous driveway without his help… and that sucks. Usually I send him a good morning text. He tells me it was a rough night. I don’t know exactly what that means, and I don’t ask. This is normal.

Friday last week, we were in a couples golf outing. After we put our clubs in the car, we strolled back to the clubhouse to grab a drink and discuss dinner plans with our golf partners. As we walked into the building, a woman was exclaiming to her husband, “It’s the doctor! I told you it was him!” Usually I try to exit these conversations. I teach math. I don’t have any need for anyone’s medical history. This time, I was trapped. Turns out, Travis had delivered their grand baby a couple days before, after a failed home birth. Travis introduced me to them. Since they didn’t give me their names, I still have no idea who they are. He will never tell me their names. I sat through the usual gushings and photos of the baby. Then, the guy says to Travis, “You have a bright future doc.” He repeats it a couple more times for good measure. I interjected, “We are also expecting our first grandchild in April.” He responded, “Oh, that’s great!” Maybe he thought I was Trav’s mom, and he and his young wife were expecting. I am still not sure because in parting, he repeated his phrase about Trav’s future. We were probably the same age as them. But of course, Travis still looks 35, so I guess he has a bright future. Not many people get to be grandparents at 35 though. He’s a lucky guy. I guess this story is more about being married to the Benjamin Button that is Travis. I get to look my age. He stays 35. 

I’m running late for work, so I’ll have to end here. At least I get to be married to the guy with a bright future. With our first grand baby on the way, and our son and his girlfriend moving closer so we can be around the baby, the future is bright… just not in the way that the gentleman at the golf course meant. Maybe we can even retire someday. Maybe it’s that kind of bright. Have a great week everyone!