I controversially asked for my husbands hand on the last leap year;
the twenty seventh of February twenty twelve. I asked his mother how she would feel, “if it would cause you any problem at all,” said the nervous I,” we can continue as normal and he need never know.” I heard myself delivering her an exit; an escape route.
She heard me out, her piercing blue eyes looking above her spectacles she watched me with an intensity of an opthalmic instrument. When I had finished she asked what I would do if he said no. “I will continue to love him as long as he wants me to.” I said.
She closed her book stood up, looked down at my four foot eleven frame and said, “You’ll do, close the door on the way out won’t you?”
This lady born in ninteen eighteen had lived a life that has…
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