Love, the Fountain of Youth

I rolled over to see my wife lying on her side. I could tell from her breathing she was awake, so I snuggled up behind her.
“I’m almost 40,” she says defeated.
“No, you’re almost 36,” I said and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
Today is her 35th birthday. She looks great and in my mind she looks no different then she did 17 years ago when we first started dating.
“Close enough, might as well start making funeral arrangements.”
I chuckle and she asks what.
“You remind me of Billy Crystal in ‘City Slickers’.”
“Or Meg Ryan in ‘When Harry Met Sally’,” she counters.
“Yes, or that. You’re 35, no where near dead.”
Today is her birthday, October 25. And she is as lovely as she has ever been.
I think of myself and picture 24-25 year old. I’m not getting any older, so neither is she, right?
We get up and go find our girls making birthday cards. My joints pop with each movement and my elbow has been hurting for a month now. She tells me I need to get a cortisone shot and in my head that’s what old people do when they can’t heal. Are we getting that old?
No, we’re just getting close enough to that age we can see it on the horizon and I think it scares us.
But I look at her and she’s no older then the day I asked her to marry me.
My aches make me feel old. Watching my kids grow makes me feel old. But growing along her side makes time stand still. As long as she is with me I will always be young and I hope she feels that way too.
Happy Birthday, Baby!