My lovely wife, who also happens to be my best friend and business partner, has been vacationing with our daughter for the last week in upstate New York. I am flipping crazy about the woman, and I miss her terribly (and my daughter too of course). As many readers know, Francy is also the Office Manager for our real estate brokerage. Yes, yours truly has been running the entire operation alone for the last week.
We’re still solvent. I don’t *think* I’ve done anything that will get us sued. None of the agents have revolted or left the brokerage (though a couple are patiently waiting on checks).
What I have realized in the last week is just how hard my wife works. And how much she knows. And how vital she is to the success of our brokerage. And how much I need her ”“ not just professionally, but personally. I’ve moped around the house like a kid with a lost puppy. I feel like I’m missing an appendage. I need my wife.
In honor of her return home in roughly 22 hours, I composed this:
And now you know why I don’t write poetry. Though technically that mess above meets the qualifications of being a Horatian Ode in a ABAB rhyme scheme, clearly Horace would not be amused nor impressed.
Neither would my undergraduate Advanced Writing professor. Sorry Dr. Marks”¦
This “Ode” however, is impressive. Listen to this rendition of the Ode to Joy segment of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9. It makes me smile, much like my wife and daughter do”¦