Before our anniversary dinner, Ryan took me to the one place where he knew he wanted to exchange our gifts. The mysterious and beautiful wooden box he carried over his head made me a little nervous, as we climbed down the slippery rocks to the beach. When we reached the sand, he pulled out a blanket (out of nowhere?) and unfolded it for us to sit upon together and breathe in the beauty of the scene. For a while, we just sat there, holding each other, resting in the quietness of our surroundings and the rare calm that we felt. Our contentment to just be...there...together...was quiet and very real. All our happiest moments seem to be somewhat timeless, I think. Those minutes on the beach seem frozen that way in my memory, timeless.
The surprises inside my treasure chest were wrapped carefully, with little cards explaining the significance of each present. This man knows how to tell me that I am loved. The rocky beach and the disappearing shoreline in front of us became a perfect frame for my new painting.
After twelve years of holding hands, I still love this feeling.
Our hands are only a little more wrinkled and weathered now than when we exchanged these rings nine years ago.
I wonder how many wrinkles will change this picture in fifty years?
What we will face together in those years?
I am more certain today than ever, of how I am lucky to be the one that gets to spend the rest of my years holding his hand.
Our hands are only a little more wrinkled and weathered now than when we exchanged these rings nine years ago.
I wonder how many wrinkles will change this picture in fifty years?
What we will face together in those years?
I am more certain today than ever, of how I am lucky to be the one that gets to spend the rest of my years holding his hand.
1 comment:
Beautiful.
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