thisoldhouse:

cancerninja:

(via:via:via:via)
i told you i wanted your forever. 
remember when we danced to ben harper at our wedding? not a day less will do…
our grandkids never saw ben harper play, before their time, but they did throw us this party, and they found a record, a record! we thought those wouldn’t last past our generation…but i suppose some things really are timeless.
50 years. can you believe it? i can’t believe we’ve been alive fifty years, let alone in each other’s arms. your hand has more wrinkles now, as you gently take mine, but your eyes still twinkle just as brightly and the curve of your smile still knows no bounds. you lead me onto the dance floor, the grass cut short and flat so us old folks don’t trip. The record crackles a bit, but the notes of his guitar come through clearly and then his voice; deep, emotional, honest. 
my eyes well up and i smile sheepishly, like a school girl…and eighty-three year old school girl. I rest my head softly on your shoulder, a bit bonier now, but still my favorite place in all the world. 
we’ve had our times, sure. my long hours at the hospital, your business trips taking you too far for too long. the loss of our first dog, how hard it was to let her go and how i found you the next morning, holding her leash staring out the front door, like a lost boy who’d forgotten his way home. how all of my medical knowledge couldn’t assuage my fears when our son fell ill, but your arms around me gave me strength - you always knew when i just needed to be held, tightly, without any words, without any explanation. 
my bones are tired now, my muscles don’t move as quickly, but standing here in the garden, gently swaying to the music, surrounded by the laughter of our friends and family, my spirit is soaring and i feel young and free and happy. 

thisoldhouse:

cancerninja:

(via:via:via:via)

i told you i wanted your forever.

remember when we danced to ben harper at our wedding? not a day less will do…

our grandkids never saw ben harper play, before their time, but they did throw us this party, and they found a record, a record! we thought those wouldn’t last past our generation…but i suppose some things really are timeless.

50 years. can you believe it? i can’t believe we’ve been alive fifty years, let alone in each other’s arms. your hand has more wrinkles now, as you gently take mine, but your eyes still twinkle just as brightly and the curve of your smile still knows no bounds. you lead me onto the dance floor, the grass cut short and flat so us old folks don’t trip. The record crackles a bit, but the notes of his guitar come through clearly and then his voice; deep, emotional, honest. 

my eyes well up and i smile sheepishly, like a school girl…and eighty-three year old school girl. I rest my head softly on your shoulder, a bit bonier now, but still my favorite place in all the world. 

we’ve had our times, sure. my long hours at the hospital, your business trips taking you too far for too long. the loss of our first dog, how hard it was to let her go and how i found you the next morning, holding her leash staring out the front door, like a lost boy who’d forgotten his way home. how all of my medical knowledge couldn’t assuage my fears when our son fell ill, but your arms around me gave me strength - you always knew when i just needed to be held, tightly, without any words, without any explanation. 

my bones are tired now, my muscles don’t move as quickly, but standing here in the garden, gently swaying to the music, surrounded by the laughter of our friends and family, my spirit is soaring and i feel young and free and happy.