We are both meant to be the earthly portrayal of the One to each other. The One who held us close to breathe life into our nostrils. The One who wrote the sonata of our love - the longing, the finding home, birthing new life, and growing old. Jesus and Aaron are my gravity when my emotions and thoughts fail; also the soaring flight of wings that tell me to dream bigger, believe bigger, live bigger, wholly.
Today he eats the soup I made and sings to me a hammed falsetto version of Unchained Melody that breaks through my focus on what I'm doing and reminds me to be. I laugh - hard. And I smile - big - when his arm wraps around my waist at the sink.
Sometimes, with unnatural country twang, he sings this:
Love grows best in little houses,
With fewer walls to separate,
Where you eat and sleep so close together.
You can't help but communicate,
Oh, and if we had more room between us, think of all we'd miss.
Love grows best, in houses just like this.
Pay attention to heart needs.
Pursue romance first and watch your feelings follow.
And laugh often.