Loving the older him with the older me, is a big lesson on forever love.
As teenagers falling in love was as easy as watching a flower bloom. It was fragrant, beautiful and so very peaceful. We bloomed, we kept blooming. Sunshine was everywhere. Our days were like summer vacation, warm and full of laughter. We explored every horizon. Even the darker valleys were a lesson learned on our deep and endless love.
The Summer turned to fall, then winter and before we knew it, spring was upon us again. We had tremendous growth with the richest of soil. Our foundation was firm and strong. A few years later in spring we vowed to love and cherish, then that fall brought us our firstborn son. Our love conceived this priceless gift again the next summer. How was it that two sons in just a short time felt like they had always been a part of us? Pure joy filled our days. Our world would be complete with a spring baby girl. Seeds planted and bloomed because of our love.
Spring, summers, falls full of laughter and christmas' filled with wonder and joy. Our bouquet was ever growing. The colors that filled our world were like a crayon box, too many to fall in love with just one. We ran, we explored the world as these babies grew. Our love for each other, grew too. The colors are now richer, yet more subtle. Our children were married with children. How did time go so quickly? The days seem long, yet the years were flying by.
Here we are, the older him with the older me. We have this lifetime of love behind us. We are more like plants that have the deepest of roots. We finish each others words. We know the smells, tastes, desires, as if they were our own. We live because the other gives us breath. I hold this man of mine in my arms for a long embrace. I cannot imagine living without him beside me. The miracle is still happening every time he smiles at me with that twinkle in his eye. How does he love the older me as if we just fell in love yesterday? The miracle happens in me also. He walks through the door after a long day and my stomach turns, as my heart skips a beat. I think he is wonderful. I cannot wait to make him happy. I cannot wait to touch his face and plant a kiss on those lips. He is Honey to me. He is forever. Our plant still blooms. Our love still grows.
Older and wiser we shall become, as more years go softly by. Our leaves will wither, our plants will be frail. Yet, our foundation stayed firm and our soil even richer because of the passing of time. One day we will hold hands in heaven as they lay bouquets of colors on our grave. Sunshine will be on our faces, and warmth will surround us. We will have the knowledge, that even death didn't stop our love. And we will have left them the legacy of a forever blooming love.
Written for Honey with love, Me