In Time

But here is the difference, the whole difference, the thing I wish I could go back and tell the tired strangers we were at that breakfast table three years ago: we don’t stop reaching now.

That’s it.

That’s the entire secret we paid forty years to learn.

A marriage is not a thing you have; it is a thing you keep doing, a step you take again and again, on purpose, especially when you’ve fallen out of time, especially when you’re rusty and embarrassed and not sure the other person will take your hand.

We reach now.

Every day, clumsily, we reach.