Today I've been thinking about the way you used to look at me.
I was at work where I have a wonderful view of one of the town parking lots. It's a Topeka parking lot - there are six spots for cars and six for buggies and there usually isn't much action. Today I saw a couple drive up. The woman got out and went to the pharmacy while the man waited in the car. When she came back, they were aware of each other but never made eye contact. And that got me thinking about you.
Sometimes I'd wait in the car while you went in somewhere, and I'd always watch for you to come back. You'd come out the door and immediately look at me, and you'd have the most wonderful look on your face. You looked like you were overjoyed to see me there waiting for you. It amazed and delighted me that seeing me could bring that wonderful look to your face, that it was me that you loved so much. And you said it meant so much to you that I looked at you the way I did. It made me so happy that it was me you were walking toward looking like that. We've both been known to trip over curbs because we were too busy looking at each other to watch where we were walking. And that was when we were in our fifties.
Maybe the nurses at Methodist were onto something when they talked about how much we loved each other. I'd always assumed that all married people felt the same way we did. The evidence, however, suggests otherwise. Not everybody is like those couples on Investigation Discovery that kill each other. But not everybody loves each other like we do, either. Of course, I married The World's Only Perfect Man, and that helps. And with your health history, we never had the luxury of taking each other for granted. But it's more than that. We love each other very much. We had something special. And I'm thankful for the years I had with you.
That verb tense is wrong - I still have you, just not here with me. And maybe you still look at me the same way. I can't wait to see you. Will you look at me that way again? I can't wait to see your face.
Thinking about you with that look on my face,