Bags of Our Mothers

"I'm coming over there," I say.
And my head fits perfectly there on his chest, just below his shoulder, where it always has...my home is here. In incomprehensible ways, I love this man, my husband of almost 29 years. On the surface, we should likely not work, and often it appears that we do not, but this is a good relationship. I have often said that we saved each other, and we did, and we do, but I am still confounded and amazed that, at the moments that matter the most, he can pull me from the waters again and again. The wonder of it is he doesn't even know he's doing it.