By Jim Bartlett
“Tell me you love me,” she says.
A rush of warmth flows through my body; I’m almost too choked for words.
“Of course I love you. And always will.”
Her eyes aglow, she smiles that smile that takes my breath away, causes the old ticker to skip a beat.
“No, no. You know what I want. Whisper it. Whisper it in my ear. Like you always used to.”
Tears stream down my cheek. Good lord, where did those come from? I pull her close. The scent of strawberry shampoo overwhelms, taking me back to picnics in Stow Canyon, walks along the boardwalk, lying in bed on Sunday mornings.
“I love you,” I say in my softest whisper.
“Fifty years, Henry. Can you believe it? Fifty years.”
I shake my head, but, now it’s my turn to smile. “Never thought in a million years you’d put up with me for that long.
She’s quiet for a bit — it’s what she does when something’s on her mind.
“Henry, you need to watch the time. You’re going to be late.”
I glance over at the clock. 10:30. Mark, our grandson, is graduating from the university today. I haven’t been out much lately, but I promised I’d be there.
“You’ll be okay while I’m gone?”
“Silly boy, I’m never far away.”
I set her picture back down on our nightstand and, using my hanky, wipe my eyes. It takes me a minute to find my legs –always does when I sit down for a visit — and, straightening my tie, I head for the door.
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Jim
A lovely piece of writing, telling us about a deep and eternal relationship that will never end
Excellent, Jim
Mike McC
Thanks ever so much for the read, Mike, and even more so for the lovely comments! Much appreciated!
Jim