But of course the one I snapped as they were leaving is much better.
Except that you can hardly see my sweet son-in-law.
Mr. Moon has gone to town to wrap up a few ends (buy vodka) and I am doing laundry, need to make up the beds, shower and pack. We should get out of here eventually.
It's a beautiful day, just like the day we got married. The air is cool and feels like sweet water on the skin. The sky is clear and it is so quiet now that everyone has gone. Just the flanging of the overall straps in the dryer. My life's theme song.
Hearts are so resilient and I am glad of that. Mine is breaking a little bit because Jessie and Vergil (and yes, even Greta who stole a little piece of it this week) have come and gone but I am looking forward to that beautiful drive down to the coast with my sweetheart, as Owen always refers to Mr. Moon when I talk to him on the phone when Owen is here. "Is it your sweetheart?" he asks.
I need to try and make a reservation for our supper tonight. I am yearning to feel celebratory and romantic. It does not come so easily to me these days as I so quickly age, as the joints hurt, as the face falls, as the camera does not lie. It was two seconds ago that we were so young, so beautiful, standing there in the park surrounded by loved ones, sneaking in a kiss before the officiant told us we were given permission. We had no idea, no one ever does, of what was to come. The babies, the businesses, the work and fatigue and constant struggle to just keep it all together. The deaths of those we thought would never die. The high and low tides of marriage in and of itself. The beautiful trips we've taken together. The simplest meals eaten in our own home, side-by-side at the little table in the Glen Den watching Jeopardy like some cliche of an old married couple. The sunsets at Dog Island and those watched from a balcony in Cozumel. The middle-of-the-night phone calls and baby illnesses. The tears- oh, the tears! of gratefulness and joy and pain. So many tears.
And so much laughter.
The hanging-in of it all. Through the low-tides, through the exhaustion, the confusion, the insanities.
Sometimes that's all you can do. Believe and hang in.
And then comes the joy again.
Time to get ready to go off with my sweetheart to celebrate the hanging-in and the rewards of doing so. I celebrate that man, I am so glad he asked me to dance in that bar. I am so glad I said yes.
Keep saying yes, y'all.