One night we sat on the couch and talked our way through a bottle of champagne.
One night we drove around from fountain to fountain, half buzzed, in a golf cart to look at the lights and chase the frogs.
One night we held hands under the table at a piano bar.
And one night, as Steve put his arm around me and I moved closer, he said, I’ve never questioned my love for you, but sometimes I forget how much I like hanging out with you. And I laughed, because I had been thinking the exact same thing.
Our life is so full, so very full. Of blessings and laughter and love and responsibilities and jobs and chores and noise. Our days can be long and after the kids are in bed, even when we take a bath together or make love, eventually the tv is turned on, our thoughts drift to tomorrow and to-do lists and sometimes it feels like a co-existance.
This past week was about us, and no one else. We laughed and talked and got sunburnt and shopped and drank too much and had lots of sex and golfed, but most of all, we held hands and wandered up and down the beach. We talked about more than work and the kids.
I watched an older couple, probably in their 70’s, sit close on their golf cart on their way to the pool. And I looked at Steve and realized that one day, our children will leave home. And one day, he’ll retire. And I’m so very lucky to have someone as wonderful as he to co-parent and co-exist and talk to about the kids and our jobs, but mostly? I’m so lucky to have someone I’m happy growing old with.