We pretend we are getting old,

That we are slowing

And that there are wisps of gray on the edges of everything

But we are the age that someday we will wish we were.

And still,

I look forward to those far away days

Despite my panicky fear of the impending unknown

And the knowledge that my senses will dim,

Continue to dim—

I am sorry for how loud you will have to speak (YELL!) to me someday—

Because I know,

I know I will be filled with countless moments with you,

Memories of you…and me

Caught up in the simple, brilliant acts of life

Cuddling in on the couch under a cotton fleece blanket

On a night when we just don’t want to see the world

Or a rousing ‘game’ of Rock-Papers-Scissors

Over picking up future dog’s crap in the yard

(I am aware that regardless of the outcome of this mental battle, I will be picking up the crap.)

And those life altering moments

As I stand beside you

When you achieve your inevitable great success, which

You will wear beautifully…after a bit of emotional tumult

And you beside me

Picking up the pieces,

Putting me back together better than I ever was before

As I finally finish that novel …

That never does get sold.

 

And on it will go.

Moments and memories I cannot fathom

Will fill my stuttering heart and my obnoxious head

And calm them.

I will look around us—

I like to think we will be on a front porch swing—

At whomever and whatever surrounds our life, smile

And disappear off into the cobwebs

Remembering the elements of this day,

This wonderful day,

That we took just for us:

 

There was one of four restaurants;

There were small, but sweet gifts;

There was a haircut in our uneven TV room; and

It ended as beautifully as the next one began,

With you holding me tight and me kissing your soft, brown hair

 

 

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