A Romantic Dream

I have this little dream. It’s a romantic dream, just for my wife. It goes like this.

She spends a fun morning with her daughters, but when she comes home, there is a bit of a surprise.

An unfamiliar car is in the driveway. See, I’ve rented a nice SUV. The back gate is open, and the rig is loaded to the gills with suitcases. Her suitcases and my suitcases. Everything is packed for a trip, including books she is currently reading. (I got a packing list from her months before.)

She smiles and says, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Are you ready?” I say.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“You’ll find out,” I say. “By the time you change, we’ll be ready to go.”

“You’re in trouble,” she says, but she likes surprises. I know that for sure.

Soon, we are on our way to the airport. She keeps quizzing me, but I offer no clues, only that we will be traveling by air for the first leg of our journey, and that we will gone longer than a week.

On the drive north to the airport, I offer her chocolate covered almonds. She likes those. In the CD player is all the hit singles from 1979, the year we got married. We sing the oldies, slightly off key, and hold hands.

We get to the airport. It is there she discovers we are flying to London. It will be a long flight, but we are in the First Class section, and our seats recline. We watch “Sabrina,” but we aren’t on the Concord. We watch “Letters to Juliet.” “Enchanted April,” “Pride and Prejudice,” all these movies we like to watch together. We laugh.

She asks me what we’ll do in London, and all I say is, “You’ll see.” She doesn’t like that but she does. She makes her fun little idle threats but I do not acquiesce.

We take a taxi from Gatwick to Southend-on-Sea where we board a luxury cruise liner and, from our balconied suite, we see the British Isles, including ports in Wales, Ireland, and Scotland. We eat and resolve regrets and talk about everything under the sun and read books—I finally finish Les Miserables—and check our email only twice a day. And swim and talk and be together and forget for a time the enormous trials strewn behind us.

We read the scriptures together and talk about what they mean. We think of the children and talk about them and our hopes for them. We write in our journals and dream and meet new friends at the dinner table and they laugh when we tell them we are from Utah. We smile and give them all their very own copy of the Book of Mormon.

We come home two weeks later, and our trials are lighter because we have the best thing in life—each other.

2 thoughts on “A Romantic Dream

  1. faith June 1, 2010 / 4:15 am

    Wonderful creating for the future! Make sure you post when it happens so we can rejoice for you.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s