A Toast

A peace settled around me this morning that muffled the noise of the day and left me smiling (except when I was trying to get the two kids out the door to pick up the third kid, so we could get the oldest kid to his concert on time) Photo above.
"It is all good." I kept thinking...and feeling. "I am exactly where I am supposed to be."
15 years ago, I was exactly where I was supposed to be too. I remember when the time came to get ready walk, I reached down for my flowers and was surprised that my hands were shaking. I remember walking down the stairs at the Blue Hill Farm Inn in Maine to the beat of an African jimbe (drum) played by a Japanese guy. My mother and father escorting me.
I remember the ceremony only from the photos. I remember my jaws hurting from smiling so much. I remember waltzing with him. I remember leaving too early, in my opinion. Let everyone go home, I wanted to stay at this party!
After I write this, I will take a glass of our favorite red wine and toast him.
I will toast to:
the deep respect we had for each other
to the crappy gifts and the pain that we caused each other.
I will toast to:
the three humans we stewarded into this life
all the bike rides and flats we changed.
I will toast to:
the fights we had
and to the growth we honored
I will toast to:
us and the day he asked me to marry him.
I will toast to:
him and the moment I watched him die.
I will toast to:
me, because it is exactly what he would want. And finally, now, I see why.
I will toast to:
his well-lived life that ended when it needed to, not when we wanted it to.
I will toast to:
my new life.