I wrote this poem on Valentine’s Day in 2019. It was the day before my husband’s heart surgery where he was to have part of his heart frozen to create scar tissue to stop his atrial fibrillation. I wanted to keep an upbeat tone, but knew it could be our last Valentine’s Day together if things went wildly wrong.

The reference to Jim is a tease. Jim is a wonderful, kind man with whom I shared leading husband-wife roles in our high school play. During one of the scenes, Jim was required by the script to kiss me. At age 17, this bugged the dickens out of Keith, or at least he pretended it did.

For over 50 years, after any of his notable smooches, I remind Keith that he still kisses better than Jim. The truth is, I really can’t say. I haven’t kissed Jim since he was a man-child. Maybe I’ll try to sneak a sample at our 50th class reunion this fall. As for Keith’s surgery, thankfully, it was a success and his kisses are even sweeter.