So on Saturday night, my friend came to dinner with her husband. My husband Picasso made a kick-ass lasagna.
This is the friend who I hadn’t seen in five years, whose visit I mentioned in a previous post.
She was the first friend that I made when I arrived here to Mexico in 2001. And when I met her, I felt like she was sent to me.
I don’t mean because she and I are so similar. Quite the opposite.
But she was a port of calm in what was the storm of my life.
When I met her, I didn’t know if I could live in Mexico. I didn’t know if my marriage could withstand Picasso’s deportation and the aftermath. There were just too many questions hanging in the balance.
The dinner on Saturday was great. My friend and her husband brought a bottle of wine- a Monte Xanic, to be exact.
Picasso is studying to be a certified sommelier-an expert wine taster. Still don’t get what it is? Read here.
So after the dinner, my husband opened up the wine. He put on his special sommelier apron, and hung his silver tastevin around his neck.
And he explained everything step-by-step, as he opened the wine. He talked about history, agriculture, politics, and the senses.
All from opening one bottle of wine.
I’d never seen him do the whole kit and caboodle before. I really do believe that a sommelier opening a bottle of wine is just as much of a ritual as a Japanese tea ceremony.
And as Picasso continued, I felt so proud of him. He’s going to start wine-tasting workshops soon, and I’ll think that he’ll be great.
I looked at my friend and smiled. And I’d like to believe that she and I were thinking the same thing: Thank God my husband and I made it through 2001 and 2002.
Listen, those of you who are in a committed relationship, you know that there are moments/days when you just want to poke your partner’s eyes out.
But the moments/days when you see them for who they are, and you love them deeply for it? Ooof.
If you’re in that sweet spot of a place today kids, then go whole hog.