I can't tell you enough to do justice to the experience; my feeble representation of the events and feelings can serve only as a guide to your imagination on the topic. It was a night of unsurpassed realization of everything I had dreamed about for so many years.
Her green eyes sparkled as they locked onto mine, and as she spoke those words, my heart, body and soul were hers. I couldn't see anyone else the whole time, and time itself passed as if a dream while I watched and feared to pinch myself for what may disappear. There are no words which can describe that feeling, the overwhelming powerful urge to laugh and cry and scream and dance and jump all at the same time, all for the same reason. But it is paralyzing, as if, in my mind, I was doing all of those things, but I couldn't even bring my body to move a muscle; mesmerized.
And it didn't stop. The same feeling again, the joy, the ecstatic, the nearly lunatic happiness, came at the birth of my first daughter, Ariel. I held her in my hands, so small and fragile; such a miracle. Again, holding my breath, I was paralyzed and unable to do anything but just marvel at the gift I held before me. Who can describe that? How does one use imperfect words to describe that perfection?
Its been 58 years now since those green eyes sparkled at me across the minister's Bible, and I am every bit as lost now in her glance as I was that night. Though I may appear strange to others, I continue to admire the beauty and watch her through my own failing eyes. And I still see the same girl. Though her physical body may be changed, and not what we may call beautiful in this world, I know what is there underneath it; for I know her, and not just her beauty.
She forgot we'd moved to the small country house recently, and asked when we were going home. I think her memory may be failing her, but she still knows me; I drove her home as she requested, and she fell asleep in my arms on the bench in the front. Still so small and quiet, I remember the early days when she would fall asleep so suddenly, right in my arms where I always wanted her to be. I could tell when she was still falling asleep, and the moment she had arrived - and I would gaze down at her and admire her perfect face. She still looks the same to me, her hair a little more grey now, but still beautiful in the sunlight.
She doesn't know me now, wondered who I was and wanted to know when I would leave. I suppose I will need to get some help to see what would be best for her; I cried this morning, it broke my heart. But I still love her. I wonder what she is thinking? I wonder what goes on in that incredible mind? What does she feel? What does she need? Is she lonely? I am a little lonely now. I don't really want to eat, or do anything for that matter. Will she recognize me one more time? What will her eyes say?
I'm alone now; she lay still this morning in my arms, and I could tell she wouldn't move again. I stared blankly out the window, still holding my love in my arms. What now? Can I survive without her? What can my life mean without her? I am struck with a profound loneliness, and lean back to sleep. I don't think I'm going to like this very much. I am sad.
Its been two years since she left me, I hardly know what to do. Its always quiet around here, everyone is really respectful. I bought back the old home, you see, in her memory. But now all I can see are memories - there are so many of them, all over this house, and my heart breaks every time. I miss her, I don't want to be here anymore. Take me home Jesus, oh please take me home.
