On Our Morning Jog

I can't even remember why I was offended, but it caused me to quicken my steps in an attempt to get ahead of him so I didn't have to subject myself to his teasing.

I could never outrun my husband, even if I tried, but he allowed me to gain the lead, if only for a few yards. He laughed at my feeble, yet sincere, attempt to race ahead like a stubborn child, "You run just like your dad; short little legs and all! Remember the time he surprised us all by jumping over the creek? That's what you remind me of just now."

It slowed me almost to a stop. I smiled at that memory, too. But I was not prepared for the wave of sadness that appeared out of no-where and washed over me. "Oh, how I miss him," was my only response.