One Down, One to Go
Dropping In

My Beloved at Seventy-Nine

My beloved husband turned seventy-nine this week.  It seemed to me like we just  celebrated his seventy-eighth birthday.  He'll be eighty before we know it.  How do we slow down time? 

In school, I was always one of the youngest children in my grade.  When all my classmates were driving, and I had months to go until my sixteenth birthday, the days and weeks seemed to drag on and on.  Now the weeks and months are flying (with the possibly exception of January).  How do we make the most of the unknown number of days we have left together?

One of the amazing things about Peter is his attitude.  He has lived longer than both of his parents; he has glaucoma (good for me because he still thinks I am beautiful) and a year ago he got a hearing aid.  He doesn’t like not being in front of a college class which he did for thirty-some years.  So now he teaches in an institute for learning in retirement.  And he only teaches things he doesn’t know so he can learn along with his “students.”  He goes to the gym every day.  Unlike his wife, he is not a complainer. OK, he does moan and groan occasionally when he’s feeling a little achy, but he is only human. 

He is as interesting today as he was the day I met him, and I am grateful for every moment that we are together.


Feed You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.

The comments to this entry are closed.