He Is Mine

He sits on the couch and reads, and plays the games and watches the TV, and I think, "why must I have one more person to run for?" I get his sweet tea, and he thanks me. I make supper and think of how much better it would be if he could grill the way he usually does on the weekend.

We pick up every piece of stray paper or toy so that he does not slip. I think, "this is what they did for me not long ago." I open up the bed and adjust his pillows, thinking of the fact that I am tired.

I walk by, and he grabs my hand. He looks at me and blows a kiss. I think, "he loves me." I adjust his leg brace.

He lays on the couch and calls to me. I answer. He is mine, and I am his and we have belonged to each other for nearly 13 years.

"For better or for worse. For richer or poorer. In sickness and in health."

Vows that meant little when said years ago, now have body and are the words that make up our union. This is marriage. Two people. Two different views of life. Two different sets of plans. Two different sets of hurts.

Two made one, and I think "this is what so many wish they had." I am blessed.

He calls me and I go to him because I can, and I want to---because we belong to each other, for now and always. "Til death do us part."

"And Adam said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man. Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh." (Gen. 2:23,24)