Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Stopping to Smell the Roses

The roses are perfect. Big, fat, plump, and fragrant. Every time I walk past them, I stop and inhale their heady reminds me of when he and I first started dating. He would bring me flowers all the time. Funny thing is, I kept most of them for years and years, even through my first marriage! I have kept every letter, every card, every note that he has ever written to me. When he is gone and I am lonely, I pull them out sometimes and read them. They always make me feel better about his job and our long separations, especially one I call the "About Her" letter.

Not that I am any Abigail Adams, but she must have experienced the same kinds of emotions during her long years apart from John as he worked so tirelessly to build this country. I can picture her pulling out her stack of letters from him, pouring over them time and time again, carrying one of her favorites around in her apron pocket, re-reading it until it was smudged around the edges and she had read it so many times the words were as familiar to her as her own thoughts.

Happy Anniversary to us!

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