One day.

I look forward to the days fifty, sixty, and seventy years from now, when I will sit around with my husband, with our children and grandchildren, maybe even great-grandchildren, and we'll talk about our love. They'll ask us questions about our long marriage and the time when our relationship started. Then we'll talk about how it's been hard work, at times almost too hard. We'll talk about it was our friendship more than our romance that got us through a lot, but it was our love that made it all ever much more worth it. We'll tell the next generations of how back in the days of email and Skype we still made the long distance work for so long, and how it was difficult and frustrating at times, but how our love grew.

We'll tell them of how we changed each other, but still left each other room to be our very selves in the relationship. We learned to love things because of one another and we learned patience. Or I learned patience, he already had it. We learned understanding, communication, sharing on a completely different level, and pride. Pride in what we have, pride in each other and pride in who I am when I'm with him, whether physically around him at the moment or thousands of miles apart. We'll speak of our love, describe emotions, thoughts, experiences, and they'll love what we had, and they'll love us and we'll love them - and each other.

One Day.

January 26

Quote of the Day

We loved with a love that was more than love.

Edgar Allan Poe