My dream, our dream
In my dream, we’re old. Much older than we are right now. Your hair is much greyer, mine still the same. We both have more wrinkles and laugh lines and frown lines. The whites of our eyes have dulled, our bones and muscles ache.
The girls are grown and gone and living lives of their own. They have families, they have homes, they have careers. They are strong women and although we have no need to worry about them, we still do. Parents will always worry about their children. But they’re happy, that we don’t question. They’re happy because we raised them with unending, unconditional love. We taught them to be what they want, who they want. To love who they want. To respect and to accept nothing less than respect in return. To be kind and thoughtful and hardworking. We taught them to love, by loving them. They’re ok. We did right by them.
We’ve lived a full life, in my dream. We finally got around to doing some travelling, we’ve made some friends – a few, we’re still us after all – and our big house is no longer ours. We live modestly, finally, because we don’t need much. We’ve got each other. Our tv, too, but mostly each other.
And we love each other still. It’s not just comfort that keeps us together. We love each other. It may not be the same love as when we were young, because love changes. It grows, it ebbs and flows, it evolves. The love a person has for a brand new crush is much different from that between two partners who have been together as long as we have in my dream. Our love, the love between Old Us, runs deep and steady. It’s exists without purpose, without necessity, without thought. It’s just there, like our blood, in our blood, pulsing around inside of ourselves as though it’s been there forever. It’s as much a part of us as anything else.
In my dream, we are old. Together.
***
(Today, the artist formerly known as [insert real name here] enters his late-early 30′s. Wish him a happy birthday, will ya?)
Happy Birthday, Anonymous Husband. I’ll love you until you’re old. And then maybe for a little while after that.
xoxoxo
ps – I can still smell your freshly showered smell on my shoulder. It’s nice.
Oh this is so lovely! What a great, inspiring post. Thank you for sharing.
Thank YOU for reading!
No, I didn’t cry when I read this…. shut up.
Aw, that was really mean of me to make you NOT cry so early in the morning.
yeah, it’s a good thing I have a heart of stone. But even so, I want this for all of us! Beautiful.
Thanks so much. My heart is constructed from pure aluminum, but sometimes I can squeeze out an iota of true human emotion.
Super gorgeous post. He’s a lucky dude.
HE SURE IS. Tell him that, please.
This is so lovely.
Why, thank you!
Sweet dream! Make sure you wake up before you are ‘crazy’ old and yelling that you are trading in your walker for a motorcycle and leaving for the west coast. Alone. Or maybe that’s just my crazy family. xo
beautiful post
That was really quite sweet. And moving. Thank you.
*sniff*
I got something in my eye while reading this. Probably an eyelash. Yeah, an eyelash. That’s it.
My husband is going to get jealous. Good thing I locked him in the closet.
Awfully, awfully sweet.
Happy birthday, O husband of the Jen O.
I can never come up with the words to describe my marital relationship… I want to steal this and present it to my husband as my own. He would swoon. I would feel guilty, but only for a minute or two.
Love this post.
This weblog is being featured on Five Star Friday!
http://www.schmutzie.com/fivestarfriday/2010/8/13/five-star-fridays-115th-edition-is-brought-to-you-by-douglas.html
you just made me cry! this is so lovely
I read this, morbidly, in a eulogy the other day, and it lept into my head when I read this:
“We were supposed to grow old and fat together. I miss you.”
To AH and Jen O.: may you grow old and fat together. Happy birthday, AH!