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 |    A log of the magnificent journey across the vast sea of my imagination. |
| Hand in hand, we walked along the beach, spring break some fifty years ago. We walked and talked and laughed, while chasing waves and scooping shells. That afternoon delight became a steady thing, as our bond kept growing stronger and stronger. The touch of your hand made me quiver when I placed the wedding band on your finger. Before long, three children joined us on our journey. Then came first steps, first words, graduations, weddings, new cars, new homes as our family grew. Through years of joy and struggle, the touch of your hand became my anchor. With your hand in my hand, we entered the realm of retirement. Today, that sensation still feels as grand as it did fifty years ago when we first met. 20 lines/126 words |
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