Forty-Three

Today we celebrated my husband’s forty-third birthday. On the schedule were the normal Saturday events. He went to my son’s baseball game and Ten’s softball game. I vacuumed the pool and went to Twelve’s softball game.

I had him take our toddler to Ten’s softball game, for the first time, while I got to sit and talk to the softball parents on Twelve’s team for the first time this season. When I stood up after two hours, I was all stiff; it was the first time I had sat that long in, like, forever.

“She was a pleasure! I don’t know what you always complain about,” my husband said about our toddler’s behavior. (Sure, I thought, she was just good because going to a game with Daddy was a novelty.)

I made dinner while he mowed the lawn. After dinner we had carrot cake and gave him his cards and presents.

We have known each other for about sixteen years now. It makes me think about the meaning of true love. When we are younger and starting out in dating, we often wonder when we’ll know when we’ve found the real thing.

I wonder if it’s something you don’t really know for sure until you are still together years down the road…

…and you see streaks of grey grow through each other’s hair…

…and you still remember what the other one looked like when you first met…

…but you wouldn’t have them be any other way…

…and you can’t imagine what life would be like without that person…

…and you look forward to those days when your hair is all silver and you can watch the sun set on your days together.