This has been hanging out on my hard drive for at least six months, and I just now got around to showing it to anyone. Thanks go to Xenalicious for making me post it, and to Tinka, for not laughing at it six months ago. Yes I KNOW there are run-ons and fragments galore, I LIKE them, okay?
Twenty-five years.
Twenty-five winters, with ice and snow, winds and storms. Twenty-five seasons of warm fireplaces and cold noses, snowball fights and snuggles by the window as we watch the swirling snow outside.
Twenty-five springs, with new grass and new leaves, green growing things all around. Twenty-five seasons of walking in clean spring air, glad to be outside after the long winter. Walking in the woods surrounded by newness and growth, and timid animals emerging from a long sleep.
Twenty-five summers, with hot days and crackling grasses, sunburns and sweat. Twenty-five seasons of just being out there, on the road, going for days without rain or a roof. Living off the land while spring seedlings grow and ripen.
Twenty-five autumns with crimson and gold trees, cooling breezes and warning frost. Twenty-five seasons of harvest and produce, the pleasure of digging deep in the ground to get food which was planted by the same two hands.
Twenty-five years of children and laughter, battles and tears. We have been together for twenty-five years today. I can sit on my chair on the porch and rock, watch children playing in the meadows, smile at the gentle breeze bringing hints of pine and lavender. I sit, and think, and remember, and love, and am loved. I have loved her for twenty-five years, and she has loved me as well. We don't even need to talk now; we can have an entire conversation with facial expressions. I know her so well, and she knows me, that I can put out my hand without looking - like that - and she will know and take my hand without looking - like that. And the moment I look up - like that - she will look up and smile. After twenty-five years, I still love that smile. And I can look back on the things we've done, and the places we've been, and the people we've met, and be happy. I can even think about the bad times without fear, without nightmares, because we no longer have them. And at the end of each bad time, there was a good time, when the bad part was over and we had gotten through. Twenty-five years of getting through. And I love her now as much as I did then.
We've lived a life, with her family, and my family, and the Amazons, and we are welcomed with open arms wherever we go. We have a house in each place, but our home is each other, and we've made friends, and we've lost friends. The day we got the news that Hercules had been killed was one of the worst; she wordlessly wept for hours and drank herself into unconsciousness. She still feels guilt, on the darkest nights and longest days. And seeing her, and knowing what I know, I stay with her and support her until the dark is gone. She is my lifeline as I am hers, and have been for twenty-five years. I love her, and we will be together forever, in this life and the next.
Here's to twenty-five more.