The Blind Promise

After 49 years of marriage, surprising Cassandra, the obstinate, was difficult.  She has always had a logical brain like a Vulcan, questioning me when I bring things up as if there is some conspiracy behind my actions.  Even when I proposed she asked, “Is that what I think it is?”

 On our fiftieth anniversary, I handed her a note.  Quizzically reading it aloud, “Blindly promise to take me somewhere next Saturday.  No questions.” She agreed hesitatingly.

Saturday morning arrived; bags were secretly packed in the trunk.  “Where am I taking you?” she asked with probing skepticism. 

“Airport. We are celebrating our fiftieth in Alaska, travelling to your fiftieth state. I always promised we would meet your goal.”

“Alaska? You would have needed me to plan with you? You must be joking?!” Cassandra answered still questioning me.

With loving eyes, I said, “It is true I usually ask you to tell me what you want to see on trips, but this time, I wanted to just whisk you away to fulfill your dream.” Smiling with happy tears, she kissed me like we were teens, putting the car in reverse, heading out to the road fulfilling her blind promise to me so I could fulfill my promise to her.

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