So it's really quiet, and I walk into the kitchen, and Bob is just standing there with a faraway look in his eyes. Just standing there, not moving for the longest time. His head is kind of down, he's not drinking his coffee. Obviously lost in thought.

He has totally no expression on his face. He doesn't look up as I slip past and pour myself a glass of water, and I wonder: What is he thinking about so deeply that he hasn't moved a muscle for several minutes?

Is he pondering his (and all of our) uncertain future? Is he regretting something in the past? Meditating on a Scripture verse? Mourning his lost youth and health? Debating how to break some news to me?

Could he be worried about something? Is there something he isn't telling me? Is he trying to work himself up to say something romantic that I'll write down in my journal and treasure always?

I walked over close to him and gently touched his arm. "Penny for your thoughts," I said quietly.

He turned and looked at me.

And said, "I'm not thinking about ANYthing. I'm listening to see if the washer stopped so I can put the towels in the dryer."