The Cambridge Dictionary defines a vicissitude as “changes that happen at different times during the life or development of someone or something, especially those that result in conditions being worse.” Example: Losing is going to just one of the vicissitudes of life if you are a Cubs fan.
As I prepped my first blog post under the heading of “Alzheimer’s, Mom and the Sweet 17”, I had to hop on social media and emotionally rewind the clock to October 2018 to refresh myself of my mindset of that fateful day.
10-10 wasn’t supposed to be that way. Rewind 10,000 years to AD 1990. I was engaged to be married June 10th of that year, just after my bride-to-be graduated. Circumstances beyond the scope of your ability to remain awake necessitated we change that date. My beautiful fiancé and I had scoped out 6/10/90 as the serendipitously ideal date for our nuptials! We loved Arby’s as a date restaurant and our taste-buds-etched-in-stone standard meal there cost exactly $6.10. Yahtzee! We labelled our paper football-ishly- folded love notes, that we passed in class instead of studying, 6/10/90…or SWALCAKDS (Google it if you need to ).
So, 6/10/90 was our day…until it wasn’t. In an attempt to adult a bit, I suggested 10-10 as a replacement date since 6/10/90 fell through. Sounded similar enough. Even looked good on my love notes. If you dig through our love notes today you can find some 10/10 logos gracing the covers. Adulting, slowly but surely, took hold again when I realized a few weeks later, while looking gingerly at my fragile $3.80/hour paycheck (and knowing my bride-to-be made even less), that a Wednesday wedding would likely necessitate a Thursday return to work. Honeymoon Schmoneymoon. Back to Sears with you, Mark. After a short, non-(teenaged)-arm-twisting, we decided that a Friday would be ideal. I could go to college that morning, get dressed in the white wedding gear and head out for the weekend…in time for a Monday return to work and school. 11/2/1990 proved to be the perfect wedding date starting off a perfecter weekend. I have bought $11.02 in gas when possible for nearly 3 decades to remind my bride of my love as she figures the checkbook. Turned out to be the perfect date. Serendipitous all along. (Note to self: Someday I need to surprise my stunning bride with a longer honeymoon.)
All sounds like it went glowingly after a brief hiccup or two, blog writer! You are still super happily married and you pull out a 12 cent word (Vicissitude) that sounds like an antonym for the serendipity of your love story. If that was the end of the story of 10/10, you would be spot on.
Editor Note: If you missed it in other posts, the Sweet 17 refers to the 17 co-princesses that live with mom in her memory unit. I will not be using their real names, but as you get to know them my hope is that they will be real to you. 🙂 They are amazing.