You will always grow older than me, but timeless in perfection. I love tossing socks through the breakfast bar at you as if we are playing a game of dodge ball or tennis. Our quiet evenings are cherished. We lay there sharing an afghan and talk about the day, the people in it, and the problems or praises that day beget.
We share secrets.
We share kisses.
We share an embrace.
The thoughtful gestures you always remember like making sure the house is clean by the time I get home from work or the notes you leave taped all over the house warm my soul. I’ve kept most of those notes. One hangs on my desk to remind me of your love. Others lay in a drawer. They are treasures.
Fire crackling in the fire ring breaks the silence of a camping trip and we share in the awe of seeing God’s creation in all its finest apparel—the somber forest standing straight around us black against a dusky sky; the song of the coyotes serenading us; and the stars popping out of the sky as dusk turns to night. The memories we have shared together over the years and the trials that have tested the strength of our marriage have only brought us closer.
I love you.
I love the way you make silly noises. I love how strong and wise you are and how you stop me from putting my foot in my mouth. You are smart. It thrills me to see you enjoy reading. The love of books has become another love we share.
I hate it when you go to work or when I have to leave. I hurry home because I can’t wait to spend more time with you. Movies hold little appeal to me anymore. A two-hour movie means less conversation with you and two-hours that we can’t make up. I think of some of those 9/11 relatives who wished they had one more hour with the loved ones they lost and some may have missed that last phone call.
I have too many regrets in my life and lost opportunities. You are not one of those. You are one of the best things that have ever happened to me. Your birthday is special to me. It celebrates the life of someone very special.
Happy Birthday, Honey!