I've never been a hockey fan-actually, never much for ice skates. We have a beautiful Ice Rink in Norwich that we went to when our children were younger (and so were we) but I don't think I've been in it more than a handful of times in nearly three decades. It's me, not them.
Back to the hockey. The first time I saw her she was wearing a Buffalo Sabres hockey jersey-a souvenir, so to speak (as I was to learn) from an earlier relationship. (I'm fine with the memory because I got the girl in the jersey.)
To be honest, if the Sabres or any hockey team had looked as good in their jerseys as she did in this one, I'd have become a huge fan of the struggles to capture Lord Stanley's cup years earlier.
She was tall-taller than I, thin, with long straight hair. I had seen her in a club Chris and I went to in Frankfurt am Main's Sachsenhausen district and this was later and we were at another place, "Old Smuggler's", beyond the Hauptwache near the Eschenheimer Tor district.
She was, and is, so beautiful, I forgot to breathe and the moment I saw her I knew I would marry her. I didn't know her name, how to meet her, or anything about her but I knew I would marry her.
I'm not a person with strong religious faith (me, not Him) but by the time we got engaged, I came to believe that it wasn't, and couldn't be coincidence or happenstance that had crossed our paths.
I cannot conceive of how wretched my life would be without her--how, in a hundred different ways every day, everything I do and everything I am is because of her. She almost makes the day begin. Happy Birthday, Angel Eyes!
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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