The secret? There should be no secrets
Secrets — Christmas is bedecked in them. Secrets like, “Don't look in the closet.” “I'll get the mail.” “Hide those receipts.” “Don't ask questions.” “Keep out of the garage.” “Promise not to tell.” 'Tis the season of delightful, delicious secrets.
I had a short, three-floors-down elevator conversation during our recent trip to Florida that left a lasting impression on secrets. Terry and I, as grandparents of the groom, were all dressed up on our way to the wedding venue across a quiet side street from the hotel. Normally we would not ride the elevator looking quite so lofty.
Somehow, who knows how, the subject of attire popped up with the two men riding with us. I mentioned Terry's 75-cent lavender tie which I'd found — still in its packaging — at a Priest River thrift store. It had, unplanned, exactly matched with the groom's, and I was quite proud of it. One man remarked, “Don't tell all your secrets.”
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