From Grassy Knoll to Touching my Soul

The world became better 43 years ago today at 2:16 a.m., thanks to two legal immigrants from India named Daulat and Prabha Singh.

That’s when Anita Kumari Singh joined us.

Wait a minute! Before you stop reading because you assume this is just another self-serving love note to a woman you don’t know or care about, think again.

You need to know why Anita is so special, not just to me but to all of us.

She connects with anyone, from the pushy telemarketer who interrupts dinner to the teenager who bags her groceries at Kroger. And it’s not fake or contrived; she’s genuinely interested in communicating with other people, learning about them, sharing opinions and chuckles and information in order to turn a mundane contact into a positive experience, a good if fleeting memory.

She defines “devoted” – whether as a mother, mate, daughter, sister, friend, employee, homeowner, even dog owner. She spends her last $5 on treats for her canines (the expensive, duck-flavored sausages they like the most) and is as good as that other Asian-Indian, Calcutta’s Teresa, at sacrificing for others and putting them first. She cherishes all her family members, likable and not, and goes way out of her way to maintain good relations with her relations.

She becomes irritated when I curse or make crude jokes – not because she’s prudish but because she thinks I degrade myself and send yucky energy out into the world.

She believes people are basically good, that they deserve the benefit of the doubt, that we all have something to offer and are deserving of respect – not because she’s naïve, but because that’s the way she wants the world to be. She wants to think the best of people, to trust, to expect kindness from others, acquainted or not, because life is better when you’re looking for rainbows than for mud. When you send out good energy, she’s taught me, that’s what surrounds you. Not always. But a lot more often.

She added my daughter from my first marriage to her already-pricey membership at the Michigan Athletic Club so I’d have something to use to lure Amelia to visit, something to offer my firstborn besides myself. Although money is tight on what’s essentially one income and our four preteens have more needs than a piano has keys, Anita’s found ways to make sure they want for nothing while still providing me with a laptop, health insurance, a cell phone and a car. She makes life easier and better for all of us and asks for or expects little in return.

Speaking of the kids, they have no idea how lucky they are. As long as they’re well-behaved and do their best in school, Anita’s willing to overlook the expectations of others and let her kids be kids. She’ll teach them the importance of giving to others and she won’t tolerate selfishness or disrespect but she sees how wonderful they already are and doesn’t feel the need to tamper too much with perfection. Initially I thought her parenting style might be too lax but now, watching how good and happy each child has become, I see her wisdom isn’t limited to finances, academics or professional pursuits. She’s not perfect – no one is, of course – but she’s surely the next best thing.

She’s hip and together one second, corny and disheveled the next. She can be tough and formidable at 6:00, silly and goofy at 6:15, and sexy and alluring at half past. She paints and cleans and washes and dries and fixes and organizes and buys and cares and schedules and juggles more and better than anyone I know. When I expect cynicism, I’m met with tolerance. When I expect exhaustion, she gets a second wind. When I expect frustration, she exhibits more patience. And when she does lose it, finally lets something wear her down or stress her out, she doesn’t take it out on others like I do. She mutters in the shower or escapes into “House Hunters” on HGTV.

I’m not saying Anita is the only one who does these things. I’m just saying she’s the best.

I like to think I’m worth her love and generosity, that I earn what she gives me and take only what I need. But truth be told, I’m not and I don’t. What I claim when we argue and what I know in my heart are two different things. Anita deserves so much more than she gets from me, from everybody.

Happy 43rd birthday to the love of my life, the best thing that ever happened to me, my teacher, my best friend, who gave me hope and joy and happiness at a time when they were as obvious to me as a congressman’s ethics. Thank you for being too good for me, so loving and patient and giving and forgiving that I can’t live without you. And thank you for making not just my world better but everyone’s, through your unique qualities, large heart, impressive mind and inherent goodness.

November 22 used to bring to my mind the assassination of our 35th president. Now, to me, it represents the day 43 years ago when Daulat and Prabha Singh gave us all the best gift ever.