We're in our 40s, or so. You call me in the afternoon because you're having a horrible day. I make you laugh in spite of it all. And that evening we tuck the kids in bed early and meet in the living room, where you have already lit candles and I pour each of us a glass of wine. And we sit and talk and cuddle until you forget everything except the fact that you're the luckiest man alive.
We're in our 50s, or so. You and I are standing in the driveway next to the camper we've rented for the month of October. We have packed swimsuits and also parkas. I pull our lucky quarter out of my wallet and you flip it. Tails - California!
We're in our 60s, or so. We're camping with our grandkids and realize that their parents have not taught them the Chubby Bunny Marshmallow Game and - thank God for grandparents - we teach them the game and laugh until we are all crying.
If you think that might be you on the sofa with me, or flipping that coin, or stuffing your mouth with marshmallows ... send me a thoughtful message. Tell me who you are. Tell me what you see us doing in our 70s, or so.