“Stop! Go back!” I reach for the camera and pop the lens cap off.
He brakes immediately and turns around in the next drive. “Should I stop on this side of the road or go past and come back?”
“Just stop, and I’ll jump out.”
I do–and slam the car door.
Not a good idea.
The whole flock of mallards takes off from the drainage ditch, flapping and quacking and squawking.
Except for one pair that allows a couple photos before they, too, lift off.
I’m disappointed as I climb back into the car.
And then I remember.
When he took me to a nearby pond only a couple weeks after we started to date. We snuggled on a wooden bench and watched the ducks.
It was there he first told me that he thought he loved me.
And I told him I didn’t know how I felt.
But he proposed a week later, and I said yes.
I wonder if he would have reconsidered if he could have seen into the future.
Did I scream at him this morning?
No, I think that was yesterday. Today’s been good. So far.
Maybe I’ll never scream at him again.
Because this could be the last time we see ducks together.
The last time we ride in a car together.
Our. Last. Day.
So I must love now, in this moment, before the door slams on this life and one of us takes wing to another.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
Live like you were dying, Love because you are. ~attributed to Mark Green
(Assume the Bishop of Aston. I can’t confirm, but I like the quote anyway.)
Also linking with On Your Heart Tuesday.
Whoa, that puts this “love-thing” in perspective. 🙂 Thanks
We just don’t know, do we? I think about that every time I want to fuss about a chair not pushed back under the table or a shoe left where I trip over it. The day could come when I long for those “problems.”
Sandy, this moves me. And it fits. I have so much trouble with my tongue. I don’t think it’s in touch with my heart AT ALL.
I hate that disconnect. I think when it lashes him, it’s really on some level lashing me. I’m trusting that as I regain order around me, I’ll regain within. And vice versa.
trusting with you, dear one.
such a bittersweet reminder …
I need to be reminded more often.
Really wonderful and so true, last night we were driving on a ‘dark windey’ road I said ‘slow down’ and he turned his brights on and we were almost heading into a deep ditch into a farmers field on a corner that was not clear to us. Let the light shine so one can ‘see’ the dangers ahead. It would have been a serious accident.
Oh, Sharon. Thank goodness for the light!
Wow — so this is beautiful and profoundly touching.
Thank you.
Thank you, Louise. You are such a blessing.
Oh my how you wrenched hearts with this. We can try, and even strive, but alas we are human. And it’s so much better when we’re bound to mighty God Who gives perfection.
Blessings.
One of the things that’s so hard during grief is that every moment becomes so poignant–even ducks. It is a good way to live, but slightly exhausting, too.
And hey, congrats on being featured at THC today!
Oh yeah, we had one of those screamers on Valentine’s Day of all days. Haven’t done that in ages – but we were both tired, anxious, confused and out of touch. We’ve been more tender since then, but sometimes I wonder why we let the steam collect so long, instead of siphoning it off in smaller, more manageable amounts. My mom was much worse when I saw her Sun/Mon and he had spent 3 hours with the tax accountant with our stuff and his mom’s, which he does each year. And today he met with Hospice about his mom while I tried, unsuccessfully, to get Lilly to nap. So yeah, we’re feeling the pain these days and are painfully aware that life here is not all there is, that none of us is guaranteed any amount of time on this planet. Hopefully, we’ll take that to heart in these days after heart’s day.
Oh, just beautiful, Sandy. And look at those duckies. I don’t know why the whole flock never cooperates like this 🙂
Beautiful, sweet Sandy! I learned a long time ago to stop yelling. Life is too short. It may be the last time he leaves the house for work, the store, wherever. Loved this! As always!
only too true… remember… a day may come when there is no good-bye and death enters in quickly and takes a loved one away… at age 29… no good-bye just tears… memories of the last thing we did… argue… and that memory never goes away… praising God for His compassion during our weakness
Yes, like every day is your last. If we could remember it in the midst of the mundane. I am looking forward to an overnight getaway, a belated Valentines celebration tomorrow with the hubs. So excited. Congrats on being featured at THC this week. So deserved, I love that story.
Oh you…
Friend? You live and love (and write!) so beautifully.
Have I told you lately that I love you?