To my Darling Valentine…

To my Darling Valentine,

I woke up this morning and found a letter reflected in my heart.  The letter was addressed to Annabelle Baw and the return address was John Baw. 

This letter was not written with words but with moments.  I saw in it the day that we met, the day when those eyes of yours enthralled me, with your smile you captured me – I was yours, and you were mine.

In this letter I saw the day of our wedding, the friends we most loved, and the family we cherished, the Lord as our witness and our pledge of love forever.   That moment is recorded in this letter, with the radiance of the summer sun being outdone only by the brilliance of your beauty.

Moments as special as the births of our sons, the fruit of our love, shout from the pages of this love letter.  Their first cry, the warmth of their tender bodies – that smell of new life, full of promise.  Joy unspeakable that a part of you, and a part of me, was now present in another, another who summed-up the best of you and the best of me, and yet was uniquely different from either and special.

I carried on reading this letter and found that it was also written with laughs, and with tears.  In those pages I saw occasions when we laughed and laughed so hard:  side-splitting laughter that came from richness and contentment in our lives.  I also saw tears, some of joy and some of sadness.  There were tears that accompanied good news, and tears that came with sad news.  Through those tears I saw both of us always together, growing stronger through times that were like Heaven and times that were hard.

The letter continued with sections that were written with hopes and with dreams, and just because we were together, those colours seemed more vibrant, those sounds were sweeter and those smells were delicacies enticing our senses.  The future was exciting, full of an expectation of goodness showering our home.

I carried on reading and reading and realised that the letter did not have an ending, it never finished, because if was a letter of love, and love never ends.   That letter goes with me every day, and I have come to know that you also carry a copy of that letter:  if you look on the ring finger of your left hand you will see it…. there, do you see it?  I do.

With all my love,

Your husband,

 

John

Baws-beach

 

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