Husband #2 and I are not what you would consider wine connoisseurs. We enjoyed drinking wine but our buying habits focused more on the coolness of the label and not the vintage or region.
We were the ones who asked for help in restaurants. Our strategy was to pick the mid-priced bottle from the sommelier’s recommendations and we were never disappointed. One of our most memorable bottles of wine was a Shiraz we enjoyed at the Eiffel Tower Restaurant in Las Vegas.
Wine buying road trips were a great adventure for us as well.
We would hop into the car and head off to this state or that state to buy wine just for fun. We’d do the tastings. We’d eat the little crackers between wine slurps. We’d pick out different wines to try. He’d head to the dry, bold end, I’d stay at the fruity, sweet end. We would trade off glasses to try out each others’ favorites. Then, after purchasing five or six bottles, we’d head home to stock our little wine shelf in the basement.
Sharing wine was a tradition we created.
Occasionally we would head out to a fantastic, favorite restaurant owned by one of our business associates. The restaurant would feature new wine flights each week. He would get the reds, I would get the whites. Then the trading would begin. No matter what we ordered, we always ended up sharing our wines equally.
I miss the wine experience with Husband #2. I miss discovering new, interesting places to buy wine. I miss revisiting our favorite places where we would get our long-standing favorites.
When Husband #2 moved out, he took most of the wine with him. Maybe those memories of our road trips were something he desperately needed to get him through the rough times. Or maybe he just needed to numb the pain. Or maybe he knew I wouldn’t drink as much wine without him to share with.