NEVER schedule a meeting with husband and the marriage therapist on the day of one’s anniversary unless one is COMPLETELY certain that the husband will say nothing about one’s shortcomings.
Oh and MOST definitely try to reschedule said meeting if one’s own musical hero’s funeral is being broadcast live and one is wearing out the hanky, sobbing away.
How dumb can I be? Well……perhaps I shouldn’t invite comment upon that subject until I’m feeling a little more positive. Let’s just say it was a new low in the anniversary department – and that’s even before I burned dinner that night.
Fortunately, we will weather this storm too and not immediately seek out lawyers and such. Twenty-one frrrrreekin’ years. Oy.