On Friday I would have sworn it not possible to love you any more than I did then. But as we shivered and gazed out across a still Derwent Water on Saturday morning I fell even deeper in love with you. As we threw sticks for our completely barking mad (excuse the pun) cocker spaniels and we dragged our little boy around in a makeshift plastic sledge (no downhill sledging for a boy with his arm in a cast lol), I fell further still. As we clutched hot cups of cocoa sitting by the marina and watched that little boy write his name in the snow, I fell again. And as he sat on your lap in the cottage, dozing as you sang to him I fell deeper still.
As we lay in front of a crackling log fire that evening reading classic poetry out loud and laughing and wishing that our remote and quiet weekend away was permanent, I promised you that one day, when we’ve both retired, it would be. I meant it then and I mean it now.
As I stood outside that shop on Sunday morning with the dogs, I smiled as I gazed through the window and watched you helping our boy to pick out gifts for his Auntie and his cousin. I fell further in love as I saw you whispering into his ear, causing him to turn and spot me gazing through the window and laugh. His giggle is infectious, isn’t it?
And as we packed our bags back into the car to return to the city, to return to technology, emails, text messages, Internet access, phone calls.... I kissed your nose and promised our escapes from the city would be a regular thing. As our dogs and little boy snored in the car on the way home, and you “rested your eyes,” I fell even further in love with you.
What a weekend. What a woman. What a life we’ve got ahead of us, my love. You, me, our beautiful little boy, the crazy dogs... Who’d want anything more?
I love you more with each passing moment, Chloe.