A Most Holy Song
His laugh does something to me. It’s like a most holy song. The sound of his giggle fills me in ways I can’t even adequately, or fairly, put into written word. His affection, the way he hugs me, the way he pulls my face into his with his tiny hands in order to kiss me- it stands mountains above the kind of affection I ever felt from any man in my life. It would be a cruel world to be without him.
He and I spent an early morning checking out a local trout brook this past week. I hope I can spend the rest of my life checking on trout brooks, drenched in heavenly light, with him.