It’s not every day a person gets a glimpse into their future.
I guess I’m one of the lucky ones.
On Saturday night, at my husband’s 50th birthday party, his 80 year old self made a cameo appearance.
While this apparition might send others running for the hills, I am very happy to keep moving forward to that (hopefully) far-off time when we’re still shuffling along together on our evening walks, half-blind, stooped and drooling onto our old-people clothes as we yell into each other’s hearing aids.
Not a pretty picture.
But if you knew what I know, you’d be trying to bump me out of the frame and slip into my spot.
What’s there not to love about a man who so joyfully joins in with the jokes made at his expense?
A man who, just by being who he is, can fill a house with people from his youth and from his recent past, with people young and old(er), people from all walks of life, and call every single one of them his friend?
What’s there not to love about a man who is so unabashedly who he is in every moment?
No window dressing. No smoke and mirrors.
No less than. No better than.
And HIMSELF is some kind of wonderful.
I love you.