She

When you have loved as she has loved, you grow old beautifully.

W. Somerset Maugham

I often sit and listen as she patiently solves yet another dark, demanding, difference of opinion soaked defense of two very clever minds. She controls the floor. She is heard. I often just watch as she engages in love; the kind she reads to them about, the type about which she teaches them life's laden lessons, while that ever engaging laugh pours out more and more and more onto them without their even knowing what just happened. She is beautiful.

There are times when I look up and wonder how did everything find it's order. She is genius. I could never in a billion years appropriately place things so efficiently. She has brought me peace, made me proud and contributed more than her share of humility to our lot. She is my wife. She is my friend. She is my partner and my accomplice. She is strong, sharp, high powered, firm, dedicated, delicate and delicious all at the same time. I have never seen her equal. But most importantly she is my editor. And if by chance all of this is not enough, she can sing too.