A New Year's Resolution Gift

Egads. March 27. Forgive me.

It's been too long. How have you been?

I had a jumpstart to begin writing again, which is why I'm back. I've thought about it plenty of times before, but haven't found the words or ideas.

Today, I met them. In the yarn aisle of Michael's craft store.

I was cruising through with Baby (who's now two - egads again), with a few gift cards smoldering some holes in my pocket, when I looked up to see the aisle blocked ahead of me. There was a middle-aged woman, helping an older woman in a wheelchair look for some colors. Between them and us was an older gentlemen, whom I presumed to be the woman's husband.

He started making faces at Baby, who I had pulled back from the verge of a nap to squeeze in this errand. Needless to say, he wasn't his usual outgoing, charming self, but the gentleman pulled him out of it.

"Are you a good boy for your mama?" the man asked.

"Most of the time," I laughed. "He has his moments, though, but mostly, he's pretty good."

"They are," he replied. "I should know. I have nine of 'em. She's one of the younger ones, over there," gesturing toward the woman in the aisle.

He went on to say that he walks three miles each and every day - "weather permitting" - and has been married for 62 of his 88 years. Exercise is the key, he said.

And one other thing.

"62 years?" I whistled. "And you're still talking to each other?"

"I'll tell you a secret," he said, eyes twinkling. "There have been fights, wild times. But whenever you find yourself in a fight, before you go to bed at night, you lean over and tell the other person, 'I'm sorry.' And you give'em a peck on the cheek. It will work wonders, I promise."

If those aren't lessons to send directly to your heart, and live by, I don't what would be. May the angel who directed our paths to cross grant he and his wife another 62 happy years.