I'm sitting in a park downtown, waiting for my husband who will soon be hurrying down the street toward me, clutching a 3-ring binder stuffed with our account statements, tax returns, and various other financial records. In ten minutes we have a meeting with our financial advisor in the building next door.

Twice a year we meet with this fortune teller. We bring papers that represent our present and she reads them like a palm and then foretells our future. It seems as though the future is a number puzzle one can simply unscramble. Although, to me, mathematical methods are murky, a bit like peering into a crystal ball.

But we dutifully plan for the future, laboring over decisions involving mutual funds, savings certificates, and retirement accounts. We try our best to determine what we will need, what we will want, and how we will get there.

As I wait for my husband to arrive, an older couple comes out of the office building that we will soon be walking into. I smile to see that under one arm the man is carrying a 3-ring binder stuffed with papers. His other arm is entwined with hers.

I am seeing our future.

They slowly stroll down the sidewalk and into the park, towards the fountain. They walk by me, talking quietly. He guides her past the steps and over to the ramp, which they carefully start down, still clutching each other's hand.

This is what we will need, what we will want. To walk in the park side by side. And getting there suddenly seems as simple as tightly holding hands.

We have, in fact, been doing it all along.