This life that lies before us-
do you want to live it with me?
These things that make up the days-
do you want to do them with me?
We’ll see the snow piled eleven feet high outside our window and Amish buggies in the Wal-Mart parking lot and north Atlantic waves that crash at our feet. We’ll feel the high desert wind sting our face and Florida steam soak our clothes and Canadian glacier cold ignore our high performance fleece. We’ll smell the Yellowstone sulfur and damp mold from the apartment flood and salty air outside the Admiral’s home we rent. We’ll taste the lobster from Maine and strawberries from our yard and pizza from that place in Indiana where they chop everything up real small. We’ll hear the sound of the fire extinguisher when the car catches on fire in Cleveland and the horn of the ferry all those times we had to commute across the sound and the crack of the tree branch when it breaks off in that ice storm.
We’ll see that crazy cat climb the Christmas tree and see our friends get divorced. We’ll feel what it’s like to be apart and we’ll feel our hearts pound hard when we see each other again on the pier. We’ll smell the exhaust from the race car and smell the giant lilacs in Kay’s Colorado yard. We’ll taste Kathy’s potato salad with the big potato chunks and pickles and we’ll taste that Skagit hospital food when we aren’t that hungry at all. We’ll hear that turtle bang his shell on his tank and hear the sound of the phone ring at one in the morning and know that it isn’t good news.
We’ll see that first ultrasound picture and know life has instantly changed. We’ll feel their pain every single time they hurt. We’ll smell diapers and Play-Doh and chlorine at swimming lessons and muddy, sweaty cleats. We’ll taste pureed squash and Goldfish and macaroni and cheese from a box and a whole lot of kale and almonds when they decide to become vegan. We’ll hear them say “Mom” and “Dad”. We’ll hear them say “I love you.” We’ll know those are the only words that matter.
Do you want the big moments and the little moments? Do you want the easy days and the hard days? Do you want the things you always remember? Do you want the things you wish you could forget? Do you want to see them born? Do you want to see them die?
Do you want the happy and the sad?
Do you want all the stuff that ends up falling somewhere in the middle?
Do you want to go through it all with me?
These decades and years and months and days,
these hours and minutes and seconds-
do you want to spend them with me?
Twenty five years ago
I walked down that church aisle.
Twenty five years ago I said yes.
Twenty five years ago