Bob and Ann

February 9, 2000

I wanted to write about this moment from earlier today, lest I forget.

Bob and Ann met years and years ago, the exact details, I have, like many things, forgotten. I do remember however that they lived in the same neighborhood and met somewhere in the high school years.

Bob would be able to tell all the details though, with a smile.

The love they shared was and is; probably what you can best call eternal. The day he saw her, he said to himself, this one is for me, forever.

And it turned out that he won the pursuit, got her hand, and they were married as first loves.

Bounty was in her womb, as she birthed two sets of twins, a little over a year apart.

As fate would have it, I went to school with all of those boys, two graduated in my class, two the year before.

As time wound its way through their lives, Bob and Ann raised those boys, along with a host of horses.

Ann was considered fearless and adventuresome, and when I entered their lives about 20 years ago as an advisor, she liked me and my style. It took some getting used to though, taking advice from someone who was only as old as one of the "boys."

Bob and Ann wandered the world together and adventured together, although Bob drew the line at jumping out of airplanes. Ann jumped anyway.

They raised kids and ended up helping raise grandkids and an occasional dog or two. Their home was a constant scent of life and vitality.

But after fifty two years of marriage, Ann had a series of strokes, and died.

Today, I was at Bob's house. When I walked in, I asked how he was doing, and also asked if any of the kids were living there with him. Seems the older you get, the children have a habit of showing up on your doorstep.

Bob let out big smile, and said, Nah, Just me and Ann and the dog.

And he was serious..

As I sat down at the kitchen table and opened my briefcase, I noted a moderately large picture frame smack in the middle of the table, facing another seat, the seat where Bob usually sits to have breakfast.

I took the frame and turned it around, and there was Ann. The picture was of her alone, smiling with all the charm and whit which she had behind those eyes. It had been taken on their 50th wedding anniversary. She looked gorgeous. I told Bob so, and he beamed.

It has been two years since Ann died, and Bob's love is as strong today, as it was in the beginning.

Still sharing breakfast together, after all those years.

Now that's loving.