She was his rock, his confidant, and his shining light in an otherwise dark world. They were in love longer than most, taking their vows to heart and never wavering for all sixty-eight years. She remembered the good times and the bad, but every day, they kissed each other good morning. She knew their love was as strong as ever, and she prayed for one more day together to see another sunrise, a full moon, and star-filled nights.
They sat on the porch together in the swing he had made for her, slowly rocking back and forth. Occasionally, they remarked on something they had probably already said a thousand times but still held great meaning to each other.
They talked about the kids, grandkids, and soon-to-be great-grandkids and how much they enjoyed their visits just to watch them grow up in front of their eyes. They spoke of when a tornado came through, destroying the barn but sparing the house, and how friends, now mostly gone, helped build another bigger and better than the last.
Sometimes, during their talks, he would reach for her hand carefully, as she was fragile, and he didn't want to hurt her. She would gently squeeze his hand, letting him know it was all right.
As daylight began to fade, he helped her up and steady himself at the door, leading them into their home, where they shared a cup of tea or, on occasion, a glass of sherry to help them sleep. Neither wanted the day to end, fearing they may not wake to a new day. But it was a reality they saw many times with others their age.
Waking to a sun-filled day, they looked at each other and smiled, knowing there would be another sunrise, full moon, and star-filled night as they slowly rocked in the swing, gently holding hands and knowing their love was one in a million.
Mike 2024
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