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  • Dear Kiki,

    This is part 2 of my promised letter. (Continued from here: http://cowbird.com/author/mary-stebbins-taitt/stories/#!/36682[but hopefully will also stand alone]). I am writing while walking to the store, so I hope what I say makes sense.

    I am afraid that I condensed the story of my meeting Keith so much that the total amazing miracle of it is lost. I didn't want the "story" to be too long.

    I am a scientist and a fairly practical person, but when that old man at the Pasty shop told me I HAD to go to Tahquamenon, it sent shivers down my spine. I felt as if he were a spirit guide in a shamanic world, and I must obey.

    Then when I saw Keith and hit it off with him and his son, Graham, and learned his wife had died and they were without a wife and mother, and I too was without a partner, I felt as if we were destined to be together. And we are.

    It was a long haul getting here. A very long haul.

    I was a girl of the 60s too, but before I talk about that, let me tell you a little about Keith. He is sweet, loving, affectionate and smart. He's tall and lean and sexy. He's also handy. He can fix cars and do carpentry and other odd jobs. He can cook and do laundry and do it all with a smile. He whistles while he works.

    I love that about him--that he whistles while he works.

    He's 66 and will be 67 in October. He works full time for GM. He likes his work and has turned down numerous buyout offers. He wants to work. He often works 58-hour weeks. (That's a lot for someone his age, and he often comes home tired and falls asleep.)

    We don't have a perfect marriage. I don't know anyone who does. We get angry at each other and say things we regret. But under it all, we have love. A sustaining enduring love. We hold each other, we support each other, we treasure each other. We laugh a lot, and he reads me bedtime stories nearly every night.

    This is where we have come in our separate journeys: we have come together. We have come to love.

    Later, I will tell you a little bit about the journey. (to be continued . . . )

    Love,

    Mary XOX
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