Smile lines and a grand adventure

When I met Tim Henn, he was 20 years old. He wasn't the first young man I met with a receding hair line, but he was the first I met with smile lines. He wore his jeans like Axl Rose--tight and full of rips and tears. His hair was longer, thicker, and really wavy. But just as blonde as it is now. And he already had smile lines around his eyes.

Tim is going to make the happiest, jolliest looking old man.

And I want to be around for it.

The other day I noticed that in addition to those smile lines, he's developed a few worry lines on his forehead and between his eyes. He's still got the smile lines, and a whole lot more of them, but what we've experienced through the years is also starting to show on his face. And I wouldn't change any of it. I would still choose this adventure with him as the pilot.

I say pilot because he is almost always the one driving when we go places, but I navigate. I make sure he always knows what the speed limit is, whether or not I think he's going the right way, which lane I think he should be in... You know. The REALLY important stuff.

We're co-pilots, though. So many of these adventures we've been on have been instigated by one of us, and decided upon by both of us. He encourages my hobbies--writing, quilting, cooking, baking. And I encourage his--photography, guitar playing, smoking of the foods. We like the same music. We like to experiment in the kitchen. We are both mountain people. We like the same vacations (mostly... I'm not big on open bodies of water, but I watch). We have nearly all the same goals. We are madly in love with each other.

And I want this to keep going. To keep having a grand adventure with some side adventures with my Tim.

Cancer is making me scared that this grand adventure is going to be cut short. And before you lecture me about "you're never promised tomorrow." Yeah, I know that. So does he. He has experienced lots of that in his career. But we're still planning to have a long, fun-filled, grand adventure.

I want to watch his smile lines get longer and deeper. And I want to be around when he turns into that jolliest of old men. Teaching the grandbabies how to turn things on the lathe. Reading them books as they fall asleep. Taking the same vacations. Discovering the same new blues artists. Going to concerts. Trying new foods. Hiking new trails. Watching our kids grow and learn and discover and find a co-pilot on their own grand adventure.

Today I hate cancer because I saw the smile lines on Tim's face that I've been seeing for almost 25 years, and it made me wonder how many I have left.

Today I hate cancer because I didn't see a single smile on his face to make those lines deeper. I saw worry as I laid down for a nap. And concern when I couldn't finish my lunch. And stress when we realized we have seven days until the next cycle starts.

Today I hate cancer. Today I want the promise of smile lines. And the promise of seeing my Tim turn into the happiest, jolliest old man.

© 2006-2019 Karin Shirey Henn, all rights reserved. 
Copyright notice: All content, including writings, artwork, photographs, or videos, posted on this blog is original to Karin Shirey Henn and the HennHouse unless otherwise stated and may not be reproduced without permission.