NUMBER 5
Written by Captain Mary on Wednesday, February 27, 2008I know after reading the others you must be curious about the 5th husband, and I might ad the last. Unless I can find someone who meets an extremely rigid profile.
REQUIREMENTS:
1. Must be rich.
2. Must have heart condition.
3. Must have no more than 6 months to live.
4. (optional)Restricted to a bed or wheelchair.
This describes the perfect man. I am accepting applications.
Back to my story. Husband #5, he will have a name, Steve. He was the love of my life. I also met him through a friend that introduced me to #3 I had come back to Miami after the break-up with #4. I told my friend that I just wanted someone to hang out with, you know a friend. #4 was always telling me that it would never work out between us because of our age difference, and out there somewhere was a person that he would fall in love with and marry. Well, I thought that fantasy love thing was something you see in the movies.
My friend introduced me to Steve, he was my age, which was weird for me. We started going out getting to know each other. Going out for coffee, then a dinner here and there. He had a motorcycle that we had fun riding to the Keys and other Biker Bars. Steve was a genuine good guy. We dated for about a month before we kissed, I don't what happened that day but a feeling came over him and me. We were married three months later. I had to call up #4 and tell him that magic is real, so sorry that I ever disbelieved him. I think he was pretty upset. Again, everything happens for a reason.
We enjoyed so much together, we were like peas and carrots. All good things must come to an end though. We were on the boat one day with my daughter Monica in the channel between North and South Bimini, when he pulled the throttle back and the boat slowed. Steve looked at me and said "this is the spot that I want my ashes sprinkled", I replied by saying "yeah, yeah, lets go we have to get back". Three days later he was feeling horrible, so I rushed him to the hospital to find out he only had a month to live. Steve knew, but he didn't want me to know. Doctors predictions were on the money and he passed away on St. Patrick's Day. Steve was born on the 4th of July, he knew how to celebrate.
Per his wishes, I took his ashes and my family, together in a private moment, tossed rose pedals and ashes into the sea. He did request that part of his ashes remain in the compass of the boat, so that he could always guide me out at Sea. Done. I also took him with me to Australia and his final resting place was near a giant clam on the Great Barrier Reef. What a world traveler.
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