It was a clear day and cold, but my wife was thankful it wasn’t raining. I could tell by the way she didn’t moan upon waking, by the way she put on her bathrobe. The bathrobe suggested that she was preparing to enjoy a leisurely morning in the sunshine. As I drove to work, I held her in my mind, curled up in the sunroom that had been abandoned since the winter, really seeing the garden for once, rather than just toiling over it. She would gaze at the flowers for longer than she realizes, appreciating the geometrical beauty of nature, perhaps even having a small epiphany, a gleaning, a hint of the existence of a divine creator. What a beautiful thought to have on a day such as this, that one is loved and cared for, that one is never alone. I imagine the color of her hair in that light, the curve of her mouth; the sun, a yellow dwarf 92,960,000 miles away, bringing her closer to God.
The Stranger Beside Me