The passing of time is marked in many different ways. A birth. A marriage. A graduation. We drive a stake in time so that we can return to the very spot, the very moment whenever we want. We celebrate some of them in big ways. Some of them are private and of very little consequence to anyone but ourselves.

Like my new porch.

My son and I sat out here and ate a bite of supper yesterday evening. We were looking around almost giddy with a feeling of satisfaction. It’s a completely new environment for us. We commented on the walls, the look of the wood, the floor, even the table and chairs. Almost like kids at Christmas.

“I wish your mama could have seen this.”

“Yeah, me too.”

You see, this porch was a dream of ours. Ever since we built this house 25 years ago, we talked about building this porch. We had a small temporary porch. Hardly big enough to use. Our dreams were much bigger.

We sat on the couch and made pencil drawings on a notepad. We talked about what it could look like. Sometimes we thought it should be an open deck. Maybe two levels. Other times we talked about how nice it would be to have it screened in so we could enjoy the feel of the outdoors without the mosquitoes.

But life got busy. There was always some other priority. Some other demand on our finances. Cars to keep up. College to navigate. Weddings to figure out. Aging parents to care for. We never whined about not getting the porch done, but it never happened.

Until now.

I took most of last week off from work to focus on finishing the porch. And here I sit. The last of the golden rays of sun are peaking through the woodland canopy. The ceiling fan is providing a nice breeze across my shoulders. Max is curled up on the floor drooling and looking at me sideways, a little gray showing around his eyes.

Another milestone is accomplished.

There is a conjunction of milestones here that I did not think about. You might think that I planned it this way, but I didn’t. Yesterday was the actual day that I put the last piece of furniture in place, wiped down the dust and swept the floor. Yesterday was when I made the comment about wishing Beth could see this. And yesterday would have been our 45th anniversary if we were still together.

That’s my stake in the ground for finishing up on a dream that we shared. May 6th now has a double meaning for me. One big. One small. One a precious memory. The other a simple pleasure.

I sure do wish she could see it.