Date With The Other Woman

fter 21 years of marriage, I discovered a new way of keeping the spark of love alive. A little while ago, I started to go out with another woman. It was really my wifeís idea.

"I know that you love her," she said one day, taking me by surprise.

"But I love you," I protested.

"I know, but you also love her," my wife replied.

The other woman my wife wanted me to visit was my mother, who was a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally.

That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie.

"Whatís wrong, are you all right?" she asked. My mother was the type of woman who suspects that a late-night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news.

"I thought that it would be nice to spend some time with you," I responded. "Just the two of us."

She thought about it for a moment, then said, "I would like that very much."

That Friday, after work, as I drove to pick her up, I was a bit nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angelís. "I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed," she said, as she got into the car. "They canít wait to hear about our meeting."

We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady. After we sat down, I had to read the menu. Her eyes could only read large print. Halfway through the entree, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there, staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips. "It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small," she said.

"Then itís time that you relax and let me return the favour," I responded.

During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation, nothing extraordinary, just catching up on recent events in each otherís life. We talked so much that we missed the movie. As we arrived at her house later, she said, "Iíll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you." I agreed.

"How was your dinner date?" asked my wife when I got home. "Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined," I answered. A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didnít have a chance to do anything for her. Sometime later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place at which mother and I had dined. An attached note said, "I paid this bill in advance. I was almost sure that I couldnít be there but, nevertheless, I paid for two meals, one for you and the other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant for me. I love you."

At that moment I understood the importance of saying, in time, "I love you", and to give our loved ones the time they deserve. Nothing in life is more important than God and your family. Give them the time they deserve because these things cannot be put off to "some other time".

Via e-mail

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