Cooked Goose

Broken Dream …

I was at a wedding of a friend. One of the most idealistic guys I know. A guy so committed to his dreams, so uncompromising that most people don’t know what to make of him. He’s one of those guys who has a standard for … let’s say friendship for instance, that makes you backpedal calls you a friend. Not because you fear him to be co-dependent, but because you know your idea of friendship is certainly far more casual. So, no, I don’t quite get him either. Admire him, yes. Know what makes him tick, not so much.

Into his early forties, he hadn’t settled on a woman. None could quite get up there and “Ring that bell.” Toll that true sound. And then this woman comes along … well, she appears on a dating website with two boys in tow. Turns out she’s a mother of two handsome boys, gifts of a first go around for her that didn’t go as she’d hoped. She’s lovely. Kind-hearted. Joyful. Ding, Ding, Ding. My friend is smitten. Seeing stars. An elaborate proposal – like I said, this guy only goes one speed – and then a beautiful wedding. I’ve been at a few weddings, never seen a guy go so blissfully.

If years ago, you asked my friend about a dream wife, about marriage, he would not have told you the story that unfolded. I suspect “How” he meets her, “When” he meets her would deviate quite a bit from what really happened. And she’d be different too. The woman of his dreams is not the woman he married. But sure enough, he’s out there right now, living his dream. Gives new meaning to a broken dream, doesn’t it?

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