What a crock.
Either Browning was very young or pretty drunk when he wrote this.
I admit, when Husband and I married, I thought it was so sweet, and prayed we could grow old together.
Not that I still don't want that, I do. I don't know what I'd do without Husband.
But at that time, I was young (not drunk), and I romanticized it.
In a rather soft focus daydream, we were white haired, slightly wrinkled and retired, but otherwise unchanged.
We will be married 32 years in four days. I was almost thirty-one when we married, so do the math.
I'm not that old (yet), but due to an accident, I ain't in great shape as far as physical pain and abilities go. I am very, very changed. I know it will only grow worse with age. I shudder to think the shape my body might be in when twenty years pass.
Of course, modern science might come up with a fantastic drug that will take away all my pain.
Yeah, right.
I was thinking about all this because of our upcoming anniversary, as well as my next birthday two weeks from today.
I want Husband to continue to grow old with me, but the best? Is not yet to be, it has done been. At least for me physically.
I thank God Husband loves me. And I love Husband dearly.
And it is still a sweet thought that we might be there for each other for another twenty years or so. I pray it be so, if the Lord sees fit for us to stay on this earth.
The best is yet to be?
Maybe. But only in some ways.
