The sky is one of the first things that form in my recall. I question whether the sun was shining or is it my sentimental slant making it so. Perhaps. Either way, I see it vast, cloudless. Time hanging still, like dust in sunlight. Closing my eyes now, I see you. I see us. You before me, biting on your lips, moistening them. You look everywhere; everywhere except at me. That cold January day.
What is it? I asked. Why are we stopping? Your eyes came to meet mine and I sensed it immediately. Those words; those words which I had willed you to utter for so long, they were about to be come. I reached out my hand, took yours, smiled at you. Tears welled in your eyes. Your words stuttered, but with a kiss I hushed you and told you. Yes! Yes, I will, I will marry you. You lifted me, swung me around.
And now I see that sky again, enormous above us, an expanse of possibility. I hear the river running along beside us. I see you, your smiling face. Forever now, you said. Forever!
As our years passed, this scene we recounted many times. To each other, of course. To our children too. We brought them there. Stopped them and told them, this is where your dad asked your mother to marry him. Why there? Why in this place? Time finds a place, we said, place doesn’t find a time.
