I see you standing there at the counter. You’re obviously bored since you’re with your brother. Out for a drive, killing time, seeing what Fate has in store for you.
I can’t take my eyes off of you. Everything about you shines. Your laugh echoes off the marble floor and high ceilings and makes even the ghosts dance behind the cobwebs in the corner. Outside new snowfall reflects a late January sun; your smile blinds me to everything else in the room and takes my breath away.
My future seems to radiate from you. You haven’t seen me yet, so I sit and smile to myself, feeling the reality of my dreaming. I memorize the pattern of the braid in your hair and the line of your jaw and the strength of your will. Why do I remember your kisses so many years from now?
I see you standing there and eavesdrop on your conversation. You’re not sure. Maybe. Why return? What is here for you?
Me. And you smile when I say your name and you recognize me, an old friend, a diversion for now, but there is something else there. I can see it in your eyes that you see it, too, and you reach out, as I do, and our fingers seem to touch tomorrow, and I hug you and it feels like I’m holding everything I ever thought I could be and I ache for your approval.
And then you’re gone, for now, but you promise to return and I don’t breathe for waiting, my life on hold just to see you again….
I see you standing there at the counter. Your laugh is the music that makes my heart dance. And there—in the love of your smile—our grandsons grow.
