anniversary telepathy

Around 7:10 a.m., morning chores long since finished and second cup of coffee cooling and almost empty, BW was laying in the mild light with his phone, exploring the non-work-related internet, also making reservations for steak dinner tonight. The dogs were alternating between gentle wrestling matches and shade naps. I had just polished off Ada Calhoun’s Also a Poet and was reading back through my notes.

Something small and bright alerted me. I looked up from my book like a meerkat and said, “Something smells delicious!” We were in the yard and on the deck between the herb garden and the cottage, and there was no evidence of anyone nearby cooking outside. It was a vivid fragrance of grilled meat and eggs and cheese with maple syrup. My mind imaged for me a partially wrapped McGriddle from about sixteen years ago. Summertime, Dallas, Texas.

“That’s funny,” BW said, “I was just thinking about McDonalds.”

I believe the two of us are closely linked enough to trade sensory impressions like this, even fleeting ones. Or maybe our trip to Frontier City yesterday and the attendant nausea from too many whirligig rides just reminded me of a Six Flags trip from early in our marriage when I made the mistake of eating a rich and greasy McGriddle right before a long day of extreme roller-coastering.

And my cute husband often does consider McDonald’s for breakfast on slow, easy mornings like this.

What I’m saying is, maybe there’s a rational explanation for our common thought.

And yet, maybe we do share a few non-physical but nonetheless strong and solid connections.

Maybe both. Maybe the latter is as rational as the former.

Whatever made us share two sides of the same idea this morning, I love it. And I am loving our slow, piecemeal morning together. And I am loving him and our lengthening marriage. Twenty one years today!

I am loving this life we have both constructed and stumbled into, this happiness we constantly nourish and protect. I am loving this rollercoaster love story, even the mild nausea we sometimes get, all of it scented with memory, pleasure, and unspoken understanding.

I love you, babe,
Always Now and Forever.
Happy Anniversary.