Every Day Except Sunday

Marilyn and I recently spent the afternoon with a personal injury attorney. Four years after Marilyn being rear-ended, we finally settled the case today. Despite an injury, resulting in having three donor bones surgically implanted in her neck, and then a brain aneurysm that almost killed her she wound up with little more than her medical expenses paid.

The problem is Oklahoma. The reddest state in the Union is ultraconservative and rarely finds for the plaintiff, no matter what the injury. Despite the lack of satisfaction, we finally received closure, and we were happy to have the episode in our lives finally at an end. Our very colorful attorney (a very good one, I might add) regaled us with one last legal story. It is good enough that I need to share.

Seems our attorney’s parents-in-law were rear-ended and he represented them in the resultant lawsuit. One of the claims was loss of consortium, defined in law as the losing of conjugal services. Well, you know what I mean.

According to our attorney, in a deposition, the opposing attorney always tries to embarrass the man. This tactic, he said, can backfire in a trial. J’s mother-in-law was less than a handsome woman, and he confided that he could barely imagine her even having sex, much less enjoying it. J, our attorney held his breath as the opposing attorney grilled his father-in-law.

“Sir, I need to know how the wreck affected your sex life. Since the accident, how many times a week does you and your wife have sex?”

“Once,” J’s father-in-law, a man approaching seventy answered.

J’s mouth dropped when his wife’s dad answered the question about how many times they had sex before the accident.

J’s parent-in-laws were good Oklahoma Baptists, and his father-in-law answered, “Six - everyday except Sunday.”

J and his parent’s-in-law won their case, including the claim for loss of consortium. Still, considering his own marriage, he couldn’t help but think that he’d been robbed, as he and his wife (the plaintiff’s daughter) had never had sex six times in any week, much less every week.

Eric'sWeb

Relationships

As I sit at my computer, I hear Celine Dion singing on the radio in the background My Heart Will Go On, the theme song from the movie Titanic. This song has great meaning to me because I heard it the first time, at the movies, just before my second wife Anne died.

Music definitely evokes memories and Celine’s song brings back many memories for me - some good and some bad. Anne was in horrible shape, almost ready to give up her battle against the Big C. Then Barrett, her law son arrived from Stilwell to bolster her resolve.

Barrett is neither Anne’s real son nor mine, but it would be impossible to imagine having a biological son as incredibly caring as he was. It seemed all our friends and family was abandoning us at the time, certain that Anne was about to die and not wanting to be around when she did. Barrett was different. He may have felt that she was going to die, but he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible before that event actually occurred.

That weekend, Anne dragged herself out of bed. Later, we had a call from old friends Sam and Stephanie. They asked us to join them at the movies to see Titanic. I do not know how Anne made it, but she did. The movie was long but heart-rending, and prophetic for what was about to happen. Still, it was one of the best of Anne’s last days.

I consider myself a lucky person because I have had two great loves in my life – first Anne and now Marilyn. As I tap this little story on my computer, I think about Celine’s song, and the last days of a wonderful relationship.

Gondwana