My husband and I met in high school. Yep. High school sweethearts in this day and age. We feel so very retro! We met, fell in love, and just knew. We clicked, right down to the way my hand fits perfectly in his.
Maybe it was because we met so young, and holding hands was a very exciting thing to do, but we've never stopped. We have to be able to sit close and hold hands while we watch TV, while we eat dinner, when we drink our morning coffee on the porch. We walk the dog, holding hands. Even when I'm mad at him, he holds my hand. I like that he won't let go. He says I'm a keeper, flashing eyes and all.
We can't buy a car unless the test drive proves it's conducive to hand holding!
It's a legacy we're passing on to our kids. I know when they grow up, they'll tell their kids stories about how Grandma and Grandpa always held hands, everywhere, all the time.
When I think about Heaven, and how one has to go first, I know that one will be waiting up there, hand ready.
That is my idea of heaven. Holding his hand always.
Thanks for making me cry! I was thinking that when David turns 13 in a few weeks he will be one year away from when you and Erik met. That is crazy to me! You need to move to Bryant so he can ride the school bus and carry on the tradition. :)
ReplyDeleteJust like a Hallmark card, I can always tell when it's great when I start crying. This is beautiful!
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