May 1: Tomorrow

Another May, another Story a Day!

Today’s entry is very brief, but I felt that I was already beginning to get repetitive! I think the story could be expanded, however, and I will probably give that a try at some point.

Tomorrow

“I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“I just love her so much. It’s hard to believe that I will be spending the rest of my life with her.”

“She loves you, too.”

He smiles, a broad one, filling his face. “She does, doesn’t she? Even though she knows all my quirks, all my habits.”

“She thinks they’re endearing.”

He looks out the window, his eyes far away, the sun illuminating his face.

“I don’t know why.”

“Isn’t that what love is? Knowing someone and wanting to be with them anyway?”

He laughs at that. “I suppose it is.”

We sit in silence then for a little while.

“She is just so heartbreakingly beautiful. I just know her dress is going to be lovely. Lace, I think. She loves lace.”

“Lace would be lovely. Or satin, perhaps. That is nice, too.” I don’t know quite what else to offer, knowing very little about wedding dresses and what she might have chosen. I should have paid more attention in the past.

“It does not matter, of course. This is just one day, one single day. We have our whole lives.”

“Yes, you do.”

“And children. I want to have lots of children. She does, too. She told me so. It made me so happy that that was what she wanted, too.”

“It is good that you agree on it.”

“I think that you have to agree on the big things. Like children or religion or politics.”

“I expect it makes things easier in the long run.” I tried to look down at my watch without him noticing. I had to leave soon, although I was loathe to do so. He seemed to like it when I was here.

“I wonder if Aunt Maureen will be there. She said she would try, but it is such a long drive for her, what with the pain in her knees these days. I would love to have here there, though. She was so kind to all of us when Mama was sick.”

I nod. There isn’t anything else to do.

“I need to be going,” I say hesitantly.

He looks sad as he turns toward me.

“Will you come back tomorrow?”

“Of course, Grandpa.”

For just a brief moment, I think I see clarity behind his eyes. That he knows his wedding was over fifty years ago, that Grandma died three years ago, that the children they had are all grown now. I don’t know if I want him to realize these things or not.