WHEN WE ARE OLD
When we are old, I will be schizophrenic and you will have dementia. Every morning, you will wake up in a panic because there is a stranger in your bed, but don't worry: I'll remind you. I will take care of you.
Sometimes I will think you are plotting to kill me. Sometimes, because you cannot remember, I will convince you of your treachery, and you will sob and beg my forgiveness. And when my realization hits, I will give thanks that you won't remember my cruelty.
Our kids will visit, will beg us to move into a home. But we won't. They won't understand our need to live for lucid moments, when we'll sit on the porch like other old couples and think about the simple beauty of a life well-lived, of our children, and the countless small miracles of our countless days. And, though we are normal now, our love will be so much more impressive.
Gentlemen of the Road