You played the piano and I sat beside you.
I listened because it was beautiful. I listened because I loved you. I wound my yarn, I cast on a washcloth, while I knitted I listened, and the world was perfect.
My brother passed us and smiled.
"I guess this is what you two will look like sixty years from now, isn't it?"
I smiled in return.
Sixty years. You would be eighty, I seventy seven. Life behind us, not before us. My knitting needles would have seen many more projects, your fingers many more songs.
And you would play the piano and I would sit beside you.
I would listen because it was beautiful. I would listen because I loved you.
I would wind my yarn
And cast on
And while I would knit I would listen.
And the world would be perfect.