Thirty-Four

 Herself speaks.

Beloved Husband and I have been married for nearly fifty nine percent of my lifetime now.  For some reason, it feels as though it has gone by quickly. Or perhaps the memories of the earlier years become crowded and compacted, like layers of sediment, by the later years. 

Every now and then, a piece of our shared history is unearthed, especially now as we are doing some much-needed upgrades to the house. I wade through a container of grade-school papers from the Offspring, or find an occasional photo from Days of Yore. I sort the box of little T shirts that our elderly rescue dogs wore for comfort. That little hook there? My Dad gave it to us, because it matched the decor in that bathroom -- I'd forgotten until Beloved Husband reminded me. Little pieces of an entire life, slowly being weeded and organized. It's odd, after years of organic chaos of Offspring and pets and Everything, to slowly and methodically tidy all the pieces of our life together.

There's such a sense of -- Completion? Empty nest? -- without any Offspring or dogs or any pets that make noise (the sound of bunnies rummaging in hay is not loud enough to count) on weekends. I feel old? Or tired? Perhaps it is time to plan some new adventures, as we step into this next phase of life. 

We travel on. And time moves ever swifter.