Alexander and Elizabeth Waverly were sitting on the porch of their Connecticut estate in the late afternoon of the last Saturday in August. As was their habit, they sat gently rocking on their wooden, cushioned porch swing holding hands as they watched the sunset.
"It's so beautiful," she whispered as she watched the sky glow red, "I wish we could always do this."
He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. "As do I, dear girl. Throughout the years, there were far too many sunsets that we missed seeing together. I used to think there would be time to make up for those, but as I move closer to the sunset of my life, I realize now: There is never enough time."
"Alexander, please don't be morbid." She turned toward him and placed her free hand on top of their joined ones.
"I don't mean to be. I'm simply saying in my own clumsy way that I wish we had had more sunsets and sunrises and laughter, love and joy. If God be merciful, He will take me first and I pray that we've shared enough love to sustain us until we are together again."
Her eyes softened as she looked at the man she had loved since she was eighteen years old. "We are together now, Beloved Husband, and I am grateful to have had this sunset with you. I love you, Alexander."
He let go her hands long enough to stand. Reaching down, he said, "Come, my dear; before we scandalize my perimeter security detail, let's go upstairs so that I can show you my love." He smiled as his wife began to giggle like a young woman on her first date.
"'My love?' Since when did you start calling it that?"
The two Section IIIs guarding the front gate were startled to hear their boss guffaw out loud and turned just in time to see him swat the backside of Mrs. Waverly before they both disappeared into the house. "Oh, wow! Did you see that?" the junior agent exclaimed.
"No, and if you know what's good for you, neither did you."