by L.J. Holmes
His hair is sparse...time moved on...and his muscles, well, they've sagged or just disappeared.
Looking into the stark reality of the mirror, she sees her waist has thickened, her complexion sallowed from all the many days gone by as time moved on in it's relentless way.
Seasoned they both are.
He still calls her "Hon" and holds her hand, and she still reaches out for that connection, that bond. Age may have slowed them, changed them a bit, but when he looks at her through his tired eyes, he sees his young and beautiful wife.
Time moves on.
Passion has deepened, is slower to warm, but fills every muscle instead. Long ago she knew he was her symphony and he knew she was his song, his friend, his lover for life.
Summers, winters, autumns and springs...they've seen them all, over and over, and loved their way through with a quietness and awe, a respect that shows love is enduring, and a source of pure strength.
Many of their friends were unable to weather life's storms. They turned to them for answers, a pattern, a plan. But love is a lifestyle, not a job or a whim. Your mate is your future, your life, and she is your twin.