I have had a full life at 81 today,
of many a ceramic cup and coloured skies.
As the sun now warms my skin, and you
clinking cups and cutlery
make milky tea for two and toast ―
I know I have lived happy.
Few knew me and few I knew,
and I spent most of my time searching for happiness; never knowing, it was right there ―
moving furniture in our little new apartment,
while dust, like stars, danced in a room flooded in sunshine.
My legacy now is not much,
but the leaf I picked from my mother's garden years ago, all the wrinkled notebooks,
and broken cups
that I still,
love too much to leave behind.
As I look at you brew my favorite tea today,
I could cry.
Love I found,
in crossing the street with you; in worn-out clothes, toothpaste kisses;
Love has been the smell of the side of your neck; our reckless decisions, loud laughter on quiet midnights; it's been, eating Ramen for dinner when we were broke.
Love,
Has been your hands.
Here, close to the end,
I realize I have never
wished so much
For an afterlife, before.
Here at 81 this morning,
as you kiss my cheek and call me for breakfast,
I know I have had a full life
of magnificent ordinariness,
and I can't believe I get to be here,
for another cup of milky tea and toast,
With you.