When I was twenty-one, I was out on a first date with a young woman whom I met through a friend. We went to dinner at the Summer House, which had dining and a theater style bar. It was a great place to see a live band.

We were seated at a perfect table for two in the center of the room. Just before the band came on, an extraordinary thing happened. I was looking towards the stage, and walking up the aisle strode Mary Milligan, whom I had a crush on in high school.

She never knew it, and I had not seen her since graduation. I stood up to say hello. She paused and we talked for a moment. I turned to introduce Mary to my date and realized something rather quickly. I had forgotten the name of my date. It did not come back to me, and neither did she after that evening. I never saw Mary or the nameless young woman, whose name still escapes me.

A couple of years later, I was at the movies with another date. Before the movie began, she saw an old friend walking up the aisle towards us. When she rose to greet him, I did too. Then my date turned to introduce me, and she couldn't remember my name either.

I guess turnabout is fair play.

I made a resolution around that time in my life. Never marry anyone whose name you can't remember, or who can't remember your name, for that matter. It is not a good sign.

I thank God every day for my wife, who forgives me my flaws and has never forgotten my name.