Thursday, March 15, 2012

Moonlight Serenade

*Play while reading blog

For the last week or so Eric has been playing soft music on YouTube, stroking my hair, and quietly talking to me trying to ward off my bi-polar demons before I fall asleep at night. (Sorry, folks he's mine.  Go find your own Eric.)  Having worked with seniors in my mid-twenties, listened to their World War II stories and the beautiful music of the era playing through the nursing home hallways during the late afternoon hours, I've become captivated by the magic.

I believe our younger relationships took for granted what our grandparents had to live through.

When I remember the moments I shared with boyfriends at a beach or passionate hide-a-ways where not a breath escaped between us, I'm heart broken that I didn't take a deeper realization that those moments might have been our last together.  Stolen moments with lovers in exotic places, dance floors, fire escapes, or a single hour that might never come again.

So now, with Eric, I've become rather sentimental.  When he asks what music I'd like to hear before I fall asleep at night, I've been asking for the oldies; the sweet, dear, favorites that our grandparents might have listened to in their stolen moments because you see, my time with Eric is no longer taken for granted.  I understand what it's worth.  I look at him every night and value his presence.  I breathe him in.  When he's not looking at me, I watch him.  I see his crystal blue eyes staring off into the distance.  I know what his fingertips look like, the way his neck smells, the way the touch of his palm feels against my back, and the way his breath sounds when he's asleep.  I know him.  I know what he's thinking...I've truly become captivated by the magic.