by Dennis Augustine
Forty-Eight Years of Marriage + Five Cecile: “The Heart of Us”
Forty-eight years + five is not just a number.
It’s mornings with quiet coffee,
evenings where words aren’t needed,
hands that have held on, even when letting go at times might have been easier.
There were storms—there always are.
Days when silence filled the space between us,
when laughter felt like something from another time.
But even on my worst day,
You remembered me on my best day
and beckoned me back.
If you have a partner like that,
you don’t give up on that partner—
because we all have worse days.
Love isn’t just the flowers on anniversaries,
or the perfect moments caught in photographs.
It’s the way she knows my footsteps on the stairs,
the way her voice is the first thing I listen for in a crowded room.
It’s the way she has forgiven me,
not once, but a thousand times,
and the way I have done the same
without ever keeping score.
Forty-eight years is love that outlasts the fire of youth,
love that bends but does not break,
love that is still reaching for my hand
as we walk forward,
together.
