Golden Hours

One day almost twenty seven years ago, Carmen and I were strolling through a park in Victoria, Canada.

As we enjoyed the tranquil beauty of the path, we came across a bench which had been dedicated to a much-missed wife who had passed on.

On the bench, the grieving husband of many years had inscribed a verse from a Robert Burns poem;

“The golden Hours on angel wings
Flew o’er me and my Dearie”


Carmen and I had only recently been married.

As we pondered the verse, we had a lucid glimpse into how fast our lives would pass… the verse predicted that the years and decades would fly over us much quicker than they should.

In that moment, we believed it.

Not wanting to regret a life lived too fast, we made an agreement to celebrate every small occasion; those brief seconds and flashes of life that might, at first, seem unworthy of pause. To soak in the treasured minutes of each day, and let them linger like a fragrance.

How happy we are that we did that!

Our 27th anniversary is just around the corner (June 16) and we now know the truth…

The years were only pretending to be years. They were as we had feared; only vaporous hours.

Time is an irreplaceable gift. It does not return. You may not enjoy its fragrance more than once.

We must celebrate the wonderful minutes as they attempt to skip by without notice. For very soon our golden hours will fade into benches.friends-forever

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