Darling Sylvia, I was shocked. The electrical impulse jumped from the garden fence through my elbow to the wet ground below. I blinked, dismissed it, and once again touched my elbow to the fence. This time my whole body flinched. It is a good thing I have a Ph. D., or I would have felt silly. I had unlatched the gate without touching the wires and neglected to turn off the electric fence. A month later, my pacemaker readout confirmed that on April 27 at 10:17, I had two heart episodes, 6 seconds apart. My heart rate hit 86 and, with the second jolt, jumped to 286 beats per minute. Shocked.

The fence shocked me, but you shock (astonish) me more often than I like to admit. You keep learning new stuff.  I am in awe of the way you organize our social media connections with family, friends, and our growing farmers’ market community. You have always been a good finder, but you only get better at finding things like my glasses, truck keys, kids’ shoes, etc. etc. I have known grandkids to call you long distance to be walked through where they might find their glasses. I am shocked and sometimes dismayed at the rapidity with which you can fact check my b.s. on Google.

After 53 years of marriage, I am still discovering who you are. I knew who you were, but you keep changing, becoming someone new and even more exciting. I am shocked when I realize that I am 75 years old, and you still make my saliva flow. I am shocked that you are still interested in me. I am shocked that you still have the expectation that I can become a better man. You and God are not finished with me yet. I am shocked and delighted that our love is becoming even stronger.

Love you. Eddie B.

Who was I?/ Who were you?/Who were we?

What expectations do I/you/we have for our future?