Twenty-Five Years

    Poetry or prose?

    It is hard to decide. Poetry can hit the notes, become songs and music.

    Prose can lull some folks to sleep. But it may be worth undertaking.

    What else to say, from our time together?

    Babies. Amazing. Each time, each one. How can we negate the power and purpose of creating life, and bringing them here, and raising them in our homes? At times I was gone, many times you did the hardest work. You became steeled to do things independently, as if I were not there. Which did happen.

    But in the case of our family, I was somewhere doing some work, in those extended absences, and the funds were made available to continue on. If I was less present while in the home, then I certainly recognize that you were always the rock and the standard. I do not take it for granted.

    You were always the hard worker, the one who sacrificed of time and body for them, for me, for us.

    Amazing, this life nurturer, you gave and gave, and many times were exhausted. You freed up time for me to do other things. Physical exercise is one small thing. You allowed me to wander and roam, doing non-essential things, many times, and played the role of the constant source of accountability and stewardship. Shopping, cooking, cleaning, homework, booking, planning, all the things. Driving. Oh, and of course: handling the paperwork and paying the bills! As you are doing today.

    Did I help enough? Not likely. I helped here and there, but I was not the husband and father that I should have been. I do not blame you for feeling exhausted. Tired. Fed up. For periods money would be tighter, and we had to scrimp and save. You began working, (more, because you normally did odd jobs and work while a full-time mom), and you subsidized the income of the family.

    You made it possible for the children to have their colleges and missions paid for.

    I was there, pushing along. You were the dynamo; I admire and respect you for so much!

    Always kind, always sharing, always in full bore.

    Always beautiful and courageous.

    Accepting of my messes and my neurotic tendencies. Military duties and headaches, and some heartbreaks.

    What else to say, now, my love?

    Wow. I am in your debt. I forever owe you, and perhaps I cannot pay it back? I will try. I want to be able to let you play, let you rest, allow you to explore, enjoy the fruits of our labors.

    I want to enjoy you as you are now 25 years in as this incredible friend of confidence and trust. The most amazing and wondrous person, that I was lucky once and since accepted me, took me in.

    Did I deserve it? Did I deserve you? Maybe not. Do we deserve anything?

    God blesses us, he tries us, as life is about trials. He gave you to me, and I to you.

    Will you accept me? Can you take me in again?

    Can I win or re-win your love?

    I must, I will go about doing what I can. I will work and pray to have you forever, if that is what you can learn to accommodate.

    25 years. I thought of making a list of the virtues, and some vicissitudes, year by year, calendar by calendar. But I believe I spelled it out above. The sum of it all hopefully outweighs the detractors, the debits. If not, I certainly have my work and destiny to do as I can, as I may, as I will.

    And we can be joyful and happy. And in love, as friends and mates.

    I love you! Forever! ("You better!").

    Happy June. Happy 25 years. Is another quarter century in the offing?

    I continue to dream, and hope. I will work for it. I will work to give you what you need and deserve.