Marriage: In the beginning

In the beginning there was him

And there was me.

I only remember briefly what it was like before 

babies made three 

and then four. 

Babies, they grow and suddenly the tiny things attached at the breast 

And then the hip

And then the hand, occasionally

Become attached by only the heart. 

I stare at him

the man to whom I vowed

my heart and my life and my loyalty 

and I wonder at who he's become through 

sickness and health 

good times and bad

babies grown into kids.

I love him beyond what I once knew of love.

And

I wonder if he sees me for who I have been or who I am or who I am becoming.

Wife morphed to mother of tiny little things

who stumbled out of her high heels and into her bare feet pacing the floor with two small babes in arms.

Mother of babes now grown into kids stumbling her way back into the occasional heels and the more-often companion to the first boy who took captive her heart.

In the beginning 

there was him and me

and babies made three and four.

Babies turned preschooler and child

more often now make just two of us tangled up in weekends alone,

a preview of life to come

and a reminder that one day again

it will be just me

and him.