you said

that afternoon in rome we saw crowds of cats loitering in the colosseum. later that night i danced lightly over your face and neck with my fingertips and whispered the colosseum cats have arrived—i think they like you. you smiled and laughed and you said that tickles. in a fragrant kyoto garden you took my picture. i have a flower in my hair. you said i love you. lying beside me in bed one morning in heidelberg, you stretched and looked at me. you said i feel so good.

on the day we brought our firstborn home from the hospital i said i have never changed a diaper, i'm a little scared. you said i've changed a diaper a few times (long before you met me you changed your nephew's). i'll show you. you changed our baby's diaper and showed me how.

i see a photo on the bookshelf, taken at higgins beach, of the three of us, four if you count the dog. i said i am glad i married you. you said, me too. i look at a photo of our whole family, five of us now, and photos of lots of friends and family (no dogs in these) in a lovely album (photographed and designed by sweet christina), at our 30th wedding anniversary party. you said what a great surprise party alexandra, james and hannah had for us. i nodded and brushed away a tear. and last week in boston, as we were slowly walking along huntington avenue, we held hands. i said this is nice. love you. you said i know. love you, too.

you said you would be here for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health. and you were right. you are still here. i'm VERY glad.

happy valentine's day.