During
this time, my good friend Lyna's life also changed drastically. After getting
her law degree, she moved to Atlanta, GA to work at the prestigious law firm of
Elkins and Dourn. There she met Geoffery
Ortzwinder, a quiet, well-dressed man with an effervescent smile. One year
later, they became husband and wife. Geoffrey provided Lyna with the good
lifestyle she was accustomed to.
Lyna's
wedding hurt me deep down inside. I had
hoped that one day our close friendship would blossom into something more
intense and lasting. The day that Lyna
spoke the two words "I do" to Geoffery, I knew I'd lost all chances
of a life with her. I’d waited around too long. I wondered if Lyna was my last
chance for marriage. Sitting in the midst of the large crowd gathered at our
home church for this happy occasion, I felt sad, lonely, and friendless. The love
in Lyna's eyes for Geoffrey told me the best man had won this time, and it
hadn’t been me.
Who knows why I did it? Maybe Lyna's
wedding had completely depressed me. Maybe I thought my love life wasn't moving
fast enough in the right direction.
Maybe it upset me that a lot of my other friends were married with
children. Nevertheless, I decided to be interviewed at a well-known matchmaking
service just three days after Lyna and Geoffery became husband and wife.
My adventure into My One True Love Dating
Service (as opposed to an Internet dating service) began at the bright yellow
door marked "Sweet 4U." Upon
walking into the office, a homely-looking secretary signed me in, and told me
to watch a show called, “Becoming the
Real You.” I fondly remembered the
numerous times that being "the real me" got me in real trouble. I
watched this in the dating parlors I sat in a couch being smothered by hordes
of fuchsia pillows.
Soon, Secretary Homely placed me in an
interview room. The beautiful interior of this small room meant the company had
gone to great expenses to make you feel ready to find your one true love.
Secretary Homely told me my “love counselor” Miss Peppermint Sweetie would be
with me shortly.
"What a sickening excuse for a first
name. Was I meeting with a person, or a Christmas confection?" I wondered.
Fifteen minutes later, Miss Peppermint flowed
into the room. I wondered if she doubled as a pink flamingo lawn ornament with
professor glasses on the weekend. Peppermint had a head of short, brunette,
frosted, and gelled curls.
Unfortunately, the tall Miss Peppermint looked just like a peppermint candy
stick in her stylish short red and white striped dress.
The first few words to come out of my love
counselor's mouth made me regret my decision to come to this place. Her
artificial cheerfulness made me want to gag.
Why had I traveled from the other end of town to hear her speech? Desperation to find my perfect woman was all
I could chalk it up to. Sitting here,
smiling, and acting like I was going to enjoy this interview would be the true
test of my patience.
"Danny, you can call me Miss Peppy.
That’s what everyone here calls me because I am excited about working here.
I’ve seen over two hundred couples get married because of this important service.
I've been looking forward to meeting you.”
"Get me out of here," I thought,
"before I star to scream."
"Let’s have a heart-to-heart
discussion. What are you looking for in a female love companion?"
I wondered if all this fake cheerfulness
was covering up some mental issue. I
squirmed in my seat, and answered her questions as truthfully and precisely as
I could. "I want someone that's a
beautiful person both on the inside and the outside, loves the outdoors, and is
of the Christian faith." This meeting felt awkward and uncomfortable, and
Miss Peppy wasn't making it any better for me.
During our conversation, she looked at me
in astonishment. (Did I have a booger on my nose?) Her mouth was gaped open for catching flies. At least, her dentist had done an excellent
job of bleaching her teeth white. Was he taking new patients?
"That's so powerful."
"More intense than what your brain can
probably think. You big air-head with a
tan," I almost yelled.
"I need to ask you if that
Christianity requirement is a must. We don't cater to many of those kind of Bible individuals."
“Watch out, Miss Peppy, you're stepping on
thin ice. You can say anything to me you
want, but get off my religious beliefs," I thought.
"Danny, wait here as I go talk to my
director, and see if you are the right kind of person for what My One True Love
can offer. I'll be back soon."
I
smiled. Miss Peppy giggled and came out the door she entered earlier. My mind was racing as my heart beat rapidly
like a trapped animal in a cage. There was the door. I left quickly. Secretary Homely tried to stop me, but I was
too fast for her. I dodged around her like a football player. Miss Peppy would
wonder where I had gone. Miss Homely could fill Miss Peppy in on my sudden
departure.
Driving
north on Interstate 60, my breathing returned to normal soon. I looked at the
seat next to me. My overdue library book stared me in the face. I thought I'd
lost that book somewhere in my apartment. The title of the book struck me as a
humorous and pathetic commentary on my dating life. The book asked me
judgmentally, What’s Your Problem with Your Dating Life?
For
the book and everyone else, I had no answer. I'd started a dating service, but
nothing seemed right. The only person I wanted to pursue a relationship with
was Lyna, and I'd foolishly passed up that opportunity.
My
closest childhood friend, John Hanley, once told me that marriage was
overrated, and not all it was supposed to be.
“The
single life has advantages, too. Danny, no marriage is better than a bad
marriage. I speak from experience." John was evidently concerned for me. I didn’t
want to hear his real-life reasoning right now. This was his second
marriage. His first marriage ended in a
bitter divorce battle.
John had been on the merry-go-round of
marriage twice. I'd never even had the opportunity to get on it. I gazed at the
freeway ahead of me, and wondered what my future wife would look like. What was
she doing right now? What if God didn't want me to marry? Could I accept that?
"My Heavenly Father, if You want me
to have a wife, please find her for
Me because. I give up." I prayed unhappily
(with my eyes open).
A splitting headache was developing at the
base of my skull, and moving directly to my face. My brain was overloaded with
so much to think about. I wanted to cry, but wouldn't. Maybe I could think
about all of this stuff
tomorrow morning when I wasn't so tired
and depressed. My car moved toward the onramp leading to my apartment at The Mulcreek Manor Apartments.
I needed some Ibuprophen to relieve this
headache. I wondered if I had any in my medicine cabinet at home. Relief came
in another form sooner than I anticipated.
This relief had “bizarre” and “magic” written all over it.
In what seemed like seconds my ears were
filled with an instrumental version of “Off
to Join the World (The Circus
Song)” by Blaine Larsen
"Where was I?"
More questions flooded my mind. "Where
was the freeway? Where was my car and why wasn't I in it? Was I dreaming?"
“If I'm dreaming," I reasoned,
"then I'm driving, and falling asleep at the wheel of my car. I better
wake up, or I’m going to have a wreck."
I smacked my face hoping that whatever I
was seeing would vanish away quickly.
Nothing happened. The self-induced pain on my cheek hurt like a wind
burn.
The smell of wood chips and animals stung
my nose. The cutest clown I'd ever seen in a circus stood next to me. She began
to talk with a distinctly southern-female accent.
"Stop foolin' around. Danny, you are gonna ruin everything."
"I only met this female clown thirty
seconds ago. She knows my name, and she's already angry at me. I'm good at
annoying women," I thought as I scratched myself on the back.
"Where are we?" I asked quietly.
I'd become a lot bolder with my questioning since my time trip to the first
Christmas many years ago.
"Who are you, and why are we standing
here in a circus both dressed like clowns?" I demanded a logical reason as
my voice moved into a high-pitched whisper.
"You are such a joker actin' like I'm
a complete stranger."
She smiled at me, and reprovingly tapped
me on the shoulder.
"If she only knew the truth," I
thought.
"Honey child," she whispered in
an annoyed manner at my stupidity, "I’m gonna be your wife, and this is
our weddin' under the Big Top. Isn't it simply marvelous?"
“Why, is that all?" I replied with a
cocky attitude. Underneath my skin, goose bumps were developing. The last time I had so much frightening fun
was at My One True Love Dating Service with Miss Peppy. I shuddered at the very thought of that lady
being a matchmaker, and wondered if she even understood the concept of
matchmaking.
To the average person, my situation would
have been utterly horrifying; but I was certain this was all a bad dream
resulting from the Four Alarm White Bean Chili I had eaten the previous night
for supper. In dreams (if you remember), the dreamer is usually in control.
My
soon-to-be-any-minute bride was a female version of Bozo the Clown. She was
rather short; wore a pure, white clown suit with pink polka dots; and looked to
be about two years older than me. Her
face was covered by a long shimmering silver veil. Beneath it her face was
painted white. On her feet she wore, silver clown shoes.
The white hat with the ostrich plume was a
nice touch to this chiller theater fiasco. I couldn't decide whether to run out
of the circus tent, or fall on the ground and laugh myself stupid. This wasn't the way I'd envisioned my wedding
day, but I'd give it a ten for originality.
Because none of my choices was suitable, I
stood there too confused to know what to do. Maybe I should try to discover how
ridiculous I looked. That would comfortably pass the time away.
There I stood clothed in a black clown
suit that appeared to be the property of a circus thrift store. To complement the ensemble, I wore a large
red bow tie and gargantuan black clown shoes and a curly black wig. I touched my face. White grease paint stuck
to my finger. I couldn't bear to think
what the rest of my face must look like.
I didn't recognize any of my wife-to-be's
bridesmaids. One of them was disguised like a bearded lady. Two of the bridesmaids appeared as a Chinese
acrobat and a female lion tamer respectively.
The most noticeable bridesmaid was the scantily-clothed showgirl with
the large bosom. Why on earth would a
bride put her groom this close to infidelity before the marriage had even
started? A chill of fear danced up my
back.
What if I didn't love the lady I was about
to commit myself to? That was a
possibility. What if I made a
mistake? Was it too late to back out
now? I couldn't run away, and make my family and friends the laughing stock of
the town. I just couldn't do that. I swallowed hard and proceeded to check my
groomsmen out.
John Hanley, my good African-American childhood
friend, (who I hoped was also my best man) stood there dressed like a circus
strongman. He fidgeted with his new
Jamaican-style dread lock hair do. Last time I saw him he had tight braids all
over his head. From experience, I knew John was uncomfortable in openly
displaying any part of his muscular upper body. Whose stupid idea was it to
have a costume wedding?
“It was probably one of your flaky
ideas," Mr. Conscience responded.
"This is no time to go pointing the
finger of blame at me, Mr. Conscience, so shut up." I shouted inwardly.
My nice gray-haired boss, Mr. Dumont, from
the hardware store stood there costumed as a trapeze artist. The red cape and
gold leotards didn't flatter his flabby figure.
"Why on earth was he a part of my
wedding party," I wondered. "He was polite to me at work, but we were
never good friends."
The last two groomsmen in my party were
twin brothers, Trevor and Garrett Slayton, that I met at college. (I wasn't
even going to try to identify what they were supposed to be.) Our threesome was
always doing something together, like ordering Hawaiian pizza from Crumley's
Pizza Shop at, or buying outlandish outfits we'd probably never wear at J.C.'s
Vintage Clothing. I truly missed those
days of fun.
People in the audience started staring. Who
printed up the wedding programs? Was I supposed to sing? As if the clown
standing next to me could read my mind, she pointed me to a music stand and a
microphone.
"Did they think I was going to do
this. They were sadly mistaken." I wondered and hoped not. Well, maybe I
could to make her happy. Winning "the best singing voice in Oaksdale"
contest for WLRT radio had given me some measure of confidence in my ability to
perform this task.
I stepped up to the microphone and waited
for the pre-recorded music track to give me my introduction to the current love song by the duet of
Tim McGraw and Reba McEntire. I was
thankful I knew the lyrics.
All around the large audience, I could
hear sniffles as I performed this piece.
Everyone including my new wife-to-be was trying to hold back the tears
they wanted to let out. I could see Lyna, Geoffrey, and their daughter,
Janiece, in the audience. Lyna's mom and dad, sister Nancy, and younger brother
Kyle were also in attendance with Lyna.
There sat my wonderful Cousin Aqua
Wells-Johnson and her husband Manly. Their adorable three-year old daughter,
Arnetta, was with them. The only person that could cheer me up with her corny
jokes when I was utterly depressed was Cousin Aqua. My cousin and her family lived twenty minutes
away in nearby Lacy, Ohio. Her walrus
impersonation with the two straws up her nostrils could make me forget about
any problem I might have had, and laugh to the point of near sickness.
Finally, the song was finished, and I was
shaking all over. The palms of my hands
were sweaty.
"Ravena Caroline Gionelli, do you
take..." The minister winked and quickly smiled at me. Did I know this man
dressed as a circus ringmaster getting ready to introduce each act in this
freakish wedding? I looked again. It was my pastor from the church I grew up
in. He looked quite distinguished with black top hat, white pants, and red
jacket with tails. I wondered if he was really enjoying this. In the audience,
I could see his wife, Jo, and their son, Lye, with his wife and squirming twin
toddler sons.
"This couldn't be the daughter of
Vito Gionelli and the niece of our family counselor, Dr. Sophia Jackson. Could
it be?" I thought.
Vito’s college provides clowns for some of
the most famous circuses in the world. Ravena's family must be wealthy. An
established college like that must be generating a healthy sum of money every
year.
Let me repeat again that I believe
marriage is wonderful with the right person, but I don't know if I love this
lady. This is not the way I want to remember my wedding.
Ravena was making a beautiful speech to
me. Please don't tell me I have to give a speech full of lies about a lady I
barely know. Maybe I could say generic terms that could apply to almost
anything. I hoped Ravena would forgive me for any fibs I was about to tell.
Ravena's elaborate language about me was
over, and I hadn't shed a tear. Maybe it's because I hadn't been concentrating
on any of the wedding, and let alone her speech.
"Here goes nothing but my good sense,"
I thought.
"Today, we are just beginning in this
game of love called marriage."
"Whoever you are, Ravena Caroline
Gionelli, get that veil off so I can get a look at your face," I almost
said. "I want to see what exactly I’ve married."
"I could never love you any more than I
do right now."
"What a liar you are!" Mr.
Conscience protested loudly. "You wouldn't know true love if it bit you on
the nose."
"As we live together, Ravena, you are a
woman I’ll never know completely. You are always a sweet surprise for all
eternity."
"Get the shovel out, Danny," Mr.
Conscience ordered, "you're in way too deep. You're about to drown in a load of your own absurdity
Why
was I starting to get teary-eyed?
"It's due to this horrible acting job
you're trying to pull off as reality." Mr. Conscience stated.
After the exchanging of the gold rings, the
wedding concluded with a breath-taking elephant show. Puffy white poodles were riding these
beasts. It was a sight to see! The act
got a standing ovation.
Ravena's veil was lifted, and the minister
told me that I could kiss my bride. Through the grease paint and the silver
clown wig, I truly believed my wife was totally gorgeous.
Unexpectedly to me, I swooped down, and
kissed my new wife.
"Give her a kiss she'll never
forget." Mr. Conscience cheered me on.
Ravena was shocked, but delighted with my impulsiveness.
"Ravena," I thought, "if
you liked that treat, you can come back anytime for unlimited refills at the
Philman Cafe' of Love."
For
the first time today, I was beginning to enjoy this wedding. Marriage didn't seem so scary any more.
"Now for the first time ever,"
stated my pastor, "I proudly present to you Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Lee
Philman." Looking down at my etched gold wedding band, I knew this whole
weird marriage was not a strange dream any more, but reality.
To
the circus calliope sound of Fucik’s “Entry
of the Gladiators”,
Ravena and I exited the circus tent (arm in arm) amidst thunderous applause.
I was curious about something. "Ravena,
what's the date today?"
"Danny, you are actin' mighty strange
today. It's a Saturday, November 8th. This is your thirtieth birthday-wedding
extravaganza," she giggled.
"What a nice way to remember my thirtieth
birthday.
After a long receiving line of jackhammer handshakes, we went into
another much smaller tent for the reception. Was I glad that my voice wasn't
permanently stuck on "thank you." If the receiving line hadn't
stopped when it did, I thought my arm would have fallen.
The
name "Ravena Caroline Gionelli" sounded both Italian and southern.
There ought to be some good food at the reception. I looked around and was
disappointed to see only salted peanuts, green M&M's, and pink lemonade, The majority of the refreshments
appeared to have had been taken right off a circus concession stand.
If a wedding cake could be classified as a
sweet mountain to devour, then this configuration fit into that category. It
was six feet tall! There were five layers of strawberry cake covered in a
sugary white icing. Mini pillars
separated each layer, and a red and white striped tent similar to the one we
were married in covered the whole gigantic thing.
On the first layer of the cake were two
clowns holding hands that looked similar to Ravena and me. On the other layers
were various circus animal and people figurines that were painted in great
painstaking detail. One could actually identify the features on each figurine.
They were simply breathtaking.
My
curiosity got the best of me as I tried to identify the smaller cake. Why did we need two cakes? It seemed like a
waste of good money. One kind of cake
was more than sufficient for the guests. So, I asked Ravena to explain herself.
"Darlin', groom's cake is a tradition
from Europe. This chocolate fruitcake is very popular in the south where I come
from. I just couldn't get married without one. Do you know what those slices of
red grapes on the top of the cake stand for?"
"No, I can't say I do, Ravena,"
I said fidgeting with my big bow tie.
"They mean we're going to have lots
of children." She licked her upper lip like she was a tiger, and I was
dinner. Ravena then gave me an authoritative smile as if she already had our
future mapped out for the next twenty years. Did she know how many kids we were
going to have, and what we were going to name them too? Maybe I should ask her.
My new wife winked at me, pinched me on the rear, and proceeded over to chat
with a group of her girlfriends.
A short pudgy man with jet-black hair and
a thick woolly mustache walloped me on the back. (Luckily, I didn't go flying
through the air like a jet plane.) That slap on my spinal cord brought me back
to reality. Standing next to him was a petite woman of similar height with fair
skin, sandy-blonde hair, and a smile that could warm the coldest winter's day.
I think these were my in-laws. I gave them
a big hug. It was by accident that I
discovered I was related to this mismatched pair. When the preacher asked who
would give Ravena away, this man answered. He had his arm around this woman. I
put two and two together and came up with my conclusion. Ravena definitely had
her father's skin and hair color, and her mother's bright southern smile.
Vito grabbed me and gave me a death squeeze,
which was meant to be a hug. As soon as he let go, I enjoyed the privilege of
breathing again.
"Are you ready to quit your job at da
newspaper, and become a partner in da clown business?"
"Vito, leave that boy alone. He'll treat
our little girl just like a princess," Mrs. Gionelli said.
"I know dat because if he doesn't I'll
break both of his legs!" Vito said.
By
the treacherous smile on his face, I knew he would make good on his promise if
I didn't treat his daughter right. It
was a good incentive to keep me faithful to Ravena.
I politely excused myself, and went over
to help Ravena cut the wedding cake. Daintily, I placed the piece of cake in my
wife's mouth. Ravena had other intentions. She intended to smash the strawberry
cake in my face, and completely miss my mouth. She did. It seemed a tad bit
childish to me, but you only live once. Make the most of every opportunity.
Ravena did that. Mother Gionelli
quickly cleaned me up, and fixed my make-up just like a seasoned pro. I was
back into action in forty-five seconds.
Mom
and Mr. Dumont, my boss from work, came over to congratulate me. Why did Phillip have his arm wrapped around
my mother's waist? For total strangers,
they were acting extremely kind to each other.
"Your mother and I hope that your
life together with Ravena is as happy as our marriage is," he said.
Mom looked lovely. Her red hair was piled on top of her head in
mounds of delicate curls. She looked
young. Many times strangers mistook her
for my older sister.
"Danny, Phillip and I have left you
directions in your duffle bag on how to get to Lake Wilson. It's been a while
since you've been to the family cabin. By the way, that was a great choice for
your honeymoon. It's so romantic and secluded. The fridge is fully stocked with
your favorites; I cleaned the cabin up for----"
"When on earth did you and Phillip
get married?" I asked. Before Mother started to answer my question, she
started straightening out the wrinkles in my clown suit.
"This has been one of the most
unusual weddings I've ever been to. It wouldn’t have been my first choice for
my only child"
“Mom,
please answer my question."
It
was amazing to me that Mom finally remarried. Sixteen years ago dad died. Marjorie and Char Philman were so much in love
that I thought she would never get over the pain of losing him. I guess we both
got over the pain, and went on with our lives. Having my boss as my stepdad would take some
getting used to.
"Danny, don't ask such a silly
question. You know Phillip and I got
married last April. You were Phillip's best man at the wedding. In fact, you
were the one that introduced me to him."
"When I fix things up I do a great
job," I thought.
It was almost more than I could handle to
meet my unknown stepfather-boss and my strange clown-bride on the same day.
Would Mom believe the truth about my
time-traveling wedding? Ten years ago, I tried to unsuccessfully convince her
I'd gone back in time to Bethlehem.
"Mom, have you noticed I've acted
kind of dazed like I really had no idea what was going on?"
"Yes, I did notice you've been acting
a bit strange. Are you feeling all right?" She stopped fiddling with my
suit and felt my head.
"Mom, don't worry. I feel fine, but I
want to tell you something really important so listen please?"
At
that point, Mom straightened up and gave me that
"concerned-I'm-listening" look. I now had her undivided attention.
Would she believe my amazing story? I desperately hoped so for the sake of my
sanity. I took a deep breath before starting my story.
"Here's the truth, Mom. This is the first
time I've ever met Ravena. I was thrown forward in time to the middle of my
wedding day. I have no idea where…" Mom interrupted.
"Now you listen here, Danny. You
tried this same time-traveling garbage on me a long time ago when you said you
had been to ancient Bethlehem to witness the birth of Jesus . If you remember
correctly, I didn't believe that story, and I don't believe this one,
either."
Mom
then marched off before I could respond to her remarks. Her face was as red as
a beet, and I was sure I saw smoke coming out of her ears. Still, she was calm
enough to hum one of her favorite romantic tunes.
Ravena was dazzling in her non-clown
clothes. Her short black hair looked so utterly feminine. Her full red lips,
lustrous long nails, and inviting emerald green eyes were driving me out of
control. I was a man that had a bad craving for my new wife.
As everyone was assembling for our
triumphant departure from the front of the
Big Top, Ravena and I decided to trick everyone. My big, rusty,
lime-green car was covered with everything imaginable like tin cans, shaving
cream, and streamers. It actually improved the looks of the car.
"Danny, let's take my car, and
su'prise everyone. They won't be expectin' us to leave in my car. Can we do it,
Darlin'?"
"Sure, let's go for it.
We threw our luggage in the trunk of
Ravena's burgundy Honda, and proceeded to drive away. My wife has a great sense
of humor. Ravena was so excited about this trick we were playing on everyone. We
drove our car to the front of the tent where the wedding guests were.
Ravena honked the car horn as we made silly
faces to the unsuspecting guests. The startled expressions we received were
priceless. Silver, red, and black helium balloons drifted high into the blue
sky until they vanished from our sight.
"So, Danny, where are you takin' me
for our honeymoon?"
Obviously, I had decided to keep the whole
thing a secret from her. Good thinking on my part. Here was one part of this
day I had some control over. I looked at the car clock, and it read 3:00 PM.
"We should be at the family cabin at
Lake Wilson by dinner time according to Mom's directions," I figured. I
reached over to hold Ravena's soft hand.
"My Mom, Dad, and I always had such relaxing, fun times there
"That sounds terrific, Danny.
Anywhere you go, I'd be content to be there." I definitely liked the sound of that.
Ravena snuggled up to me like a purring cat. She proceeded to blow in my ear
and run her plum fingernails throughout every inch of hair on my head. I liked
it. Yet, there was a problem in Paradise. This was a bit distracting to driving.
Ravena realized this by the swerving of the car, and stopped immediately for
our safety.
If honest conversation is the key to a
lasting relationship, the two of us were off to a great start. We both loved to talk and laugh about
ourselves, our families, and anything else that popped into our minds.
After cleverly tricking my wife into telling
me about herself, I learned that she had
a double degree in psychology and business administration. After moving to Oaksdale, she'd been the
administrator/counselor of a home for unwed mothers. Because of her family
heritage, Ravena could fluently speak Italian, some French, and English with a
distinct southern draw. She demonstrated
her abilities for me as she translated my speech into those three
languages. Her hobbies included
volleyball, swimming, cooking, and reading good spy novels.
Though we seemed to be a perfect match, one
thing did bother me. Why would such an intelligent woman want to marry an
average guy like me?
"Ravena, why did you marry me? You
could have done so much better." The question caught her off guard.
"Darlin', is that why you've been
actin' so strange today? Do you feel you're not good enough for me?"
"I got news for you, Darlin'," She
stated with a fury in her eyes at my lack of self-confidence. "Ya'll are
the best. The good Lord above knows that I have dated enough intelligent rich
boys that turned out to be conceited brats. They didn’t stick around for very
long. Danny, you have been with me
through my good and bad times. I feel like a whole woman around you. You are the only man I want to spend the rest
of my life with. I cherish you unconditionally."
I squeezed Ravena closer to me and smiled
as I drove on the highway ahead of me. It felt good to know that Ravena loved
me just the way I was with all my imperfections. A feeling of awe swept over me
as I realized that nothing I could do or say would ever separate me from the
love of my life,, Mrs. Ravena Gionelli Philman.
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