Large Fierce Mammal

One year ago today, in the glorious autumn of 2008 and on the occasion of the most perfect Hallowe’en ever documented in human history, my perfect Diana and I were married.

People often ask, “Why Hallowe’en?” to which we always answer, “Because some of the most important guests are dead and that’s the only night they could come.”

It may surprise some of you to learn that our flawless day was assembled from start to finish in the span of three weeks. We both knew  the time was right and the stress, contrary to what those who don’t know us personally might think, was virtually nil. We simply knew it would all come together as we envisioned it so it was no surprise to us that every person we wanted to be there, every vital component right down to the breath of Nature and the fall of autumn leaves was not only made available for us, but arrived as and when needed exactly on cue.

We’re all familiar with the stories of Divine messengers. All belief systems include glorious tales of human encounters with angels and other entities, all charged with the duty to bring a deity’s word to the masses. Usually there’s a deafening trumpet that sounds, a bush that burns, lightning that strikes, or “sum ‘ot” as they say in Yorkshire.

That’s all well and good, but I’ve kept my eyes and ears open for over half a century and I have to say that my experience has given me a different take. I believe that when you live your life in a fashion that makes you deserving, then whatever you deserve, you will get. Ominous you say? Well, ain’t it just!

Anyway, I also believe that the Divine messages so well documented in all the literature are not what we can expect today. Nope, I think they’re FAR more subtle, and not without a sense of wondrous humour. Example? Of course I have one. Was there ever any doubt?

On the morning of Sunday, the ninth of September 2007, I had to go and see a client. Not, in itself, a strange thing except for the fact that Diana and I normally defend Sundays as our day to spend TOGETHER and keep them free of any interference except under exceptional circumstances. You’ll have to accept my word that the Sunday in question was exceptional and I went alone.

Mission accomplished I was driving home and, just on one of those whims we all get, decided to turn on the car radio which happened to be tuned to CBC.

Cole Porter wrote a song that was featured in a 1943 musical titled “Something to Shout About”, and that song has been recorded by many artists since then. What was just beginning at exactly that moment, and what I listened to as I finished the drive home to Diana, was a beautiful and understated instrumental version played on the sax, but the Divine message was loud and clear. The song?

“You’d Be So Nice To Come Home To“.

You were, you are, and you always will be Baby.