Yancey is living in Seattle all year for his paramedic training. As many of you know, we see him every 7-10 days for about 12 hours. We are halfway through, and definitely surviving. But it's hard, and mostly I'm reminded of how much I like to be around him. I'm more relaxed with him, more flexible, more engaged. After 22 years of marriage, it's nice to notice that. Still. Again.
Here's a poem for him.
Two big poodles, one brown, one white,
are happy to see one another--
straining on leashes
like they just won the dog lottery.
Their owners chuckle,
chat for a minute,
finally coax them apart.
The dogs, looking backward,
aren't nearly done.
You know I'm going to make this
about you and me,
About how I want to be with you
all the time,
how uncooperative I am
when we're forced to keep walking.