June 19th

June 19^th

I am Tahasi Massk

Stillness of night has settled on the sprouting fields of grain. We walk with fingers twined together. Summer air feels like silk on our skin. The waning moon will not rise until near morning, so the stars multiply to fill the midnight blue sky. These are the moments that defy description. Does anyone really know what this moment feels like without having experienced it? Tonight, there are long spaces between the words. It is not the anxious kind of silence, with unspoken words arrayed in opposing camps. It is potent kind of quiet, where shared stillness flows from inside to fill the space between us.

June 18th

June 18^th

I am Tahasi Massk

Twenty years ago, we would stay up late into the night talking. Sometimes we talked about school. Other times we simply were learning each other’s stories. We didn’t know each other very well then. Now, there are very few stories that haven’t been told. And retold. And yet, we still stay up until three or four in the morning walking and talking. While the exercise is nice, mostly I need discussion—her insights, her questions, her ability to see things in ways I do not. Our bodies will get old. Many things that we love to do together may become difficult. And eventually impossible. But we will still be talking. Our conversation ages like wine, not flowers.

June 17th

June 17^th

I am Tahasi Massk

Last night I watched as the children danced. Our children and others. She has taught the smallest of them. Not just about the dancing, but about the power that is in themselves. She teaches it because she has it. And they love her for it. She does not consider herself a dancer. She sometimes believes she is faking it. She loves the girls, and pours her energy into it. When they come on stage, they feel like superheroes. Because they have been taught by one. Her enthusiasm reaches out in countless ways.

June 16th

June 16^th

I am Tahasi Massk

The whisper of waves is a balm, whenever a tense emotion rises. The trickle of streams, or the rush of rivers calms a deep place in me. She does not feel the same, but she feels me. She knows my love of water that moves. She sends me pictures of waterfalls that she sees. When we are together she makes sure we stop. We embrace, and listen to the sound. Those things, they are wordless ‘I love you’s. The clearest kind. Her love—like moving water—expresses without words. It speaks to something deep in me. It gives me strength, and hope. And soothes me. I crave it like the dry cracked earth craves rain. And when it fills me, I come alive. Like the earth in spring.

June 15th

June 15^th

I am Tahasi Massk

Light is gilding her tanned skin. Just a sliver between the curtains, as the sun peeks over the mountains. It streaks across the back of her shoulder, and it glows. I never cease to be amazed by her body. I trace my fingertips across her back. From where her neck starts, across the top of her shoulder blade, and down her upper arm. My fingers slide through the light, and I feel the warmth. Some of the magic of this moment is the rareness. She is almost always the first to rise. Always praying first, then climbing out of bed to attend to the needs of the day. Making sure that things are in order. That children have lunches. Reading to them. Praying with them. Bringing the light of the morning with her.

June 14th

June 14^th

I am Tahasi Massk,

Running is delightful entertainment for her. I have bad knees. Doing things outside brings us closer. Every day I ride my bike to work. She asked for the bike for a birthday gift, so we could be together outside. The wind our movement creates breathes over our skin. Cooling us, and making us feel alive together. Every time we ride she apologizes that she isn’t faster. That she is slowing me down. And I know she feels weak because I have ridden more miles and more hills. And I can never quite make her understand that none of that matters. That riding with me means more because she does it in spite of those feelings. Because she is beside me, with the sun upon us, and the wind around us, and breath filling us up inside, and she is with me. And today I looked over, seeing her, and the sky, and the long grass rippling in the breeze. And breath and joy filled me up until a little spilled out my eyes, because I have all I need.

June 13th

June 13^th

I am Tahasi Massk,

There are days where I cannot believe that she loves me. But she still does. We have known each other for decades now. She has seen the worst of me—the ugly, the stupid, and the sad—and still is with me. She has heard the worst in me—the callous, the critical, and the mean—and still listens. She has known the worst in me—the failing, the faithlessness, and the lost—and still believes in me. How do I ever repay such love? There really is no way. But I can show her that I see, hear, and know her love. I can express my soul-deep thanks. How? I will write the things I know. And I will remember. I will try each day to make her smile. To share her struggles, and lift her heart. I will try to capture in words the depth and breadth of my love for her. I will think about how amazing she is, and I will make absolutely sure she knows.