Love and Lovechild

After a quarter of a century with Terry, I learned that love does not always arrive with fireworks. Sometimes it shows up with a heating pad, a dog leash, and the patience to sit through a game you do not care about because someone you love very much does.

We built a life that was less about perfection and more about practice. Practice in forgiveness. Practice in showing up. Practice in laughing when the remote disappeared into the couch cushions for the third time that week. We made our share of mistakes. We weathered storms. But the bond held. It always did. Like roots under a sidewalk, quietly strong, lifting the concrete just enough to remind the world we were still growing.

MS was an uninvited guest who stayed too long. It changed the rhythm of our days. Slowed some of our steps. Taught us new ways to be gentle with time. Still, there was companionship. There was teamwork. There was a profound friendship. There was a steady, everyday courage that did not ask for applause. Just a chair pulled close. Just a hand resting where it could reach.

Our house was never quiet. There was barking, sometimes joyful, sometimes deeply offended by some suspicious noise in the air. There was enthusiastic commentary at the television, as if the players could hear us from the couch. There were fur babies who believed they were in charge. And through all of it, laughter kept finding its way back home. That was the glue. Laughter, and care, and the small rituals that make a family feel like a harbor.

Today, Jolie turns eight. Our Lovechild, with four legs and a generous opinion about treats.
Today, I celebrate a Valentine’s Day that looks a little different.
Terry in the Light. Me here on Earth.
It sounds like a divide, but it does not feel like one.
It feels like a wide sky with room for both of us to keep loving from where we stand.

So I send Terry my quiet prayers. Safe travels. Gentle paths. A journey unburdened.
I carry gratitude like a warm cup in my hands.
For the time.
For the life.
For the love that continues teaching me how to be here.