Chris stopped by the hospital with me after our anniversary dinner. I needed to check on our daughter’s swab results (Influenza A, yay, real romantic). Anyway, I love this photo he snapped in my office.
We have been married fourteen years today. We have seen far more good times than bad. We have lived, laughed, loved, and all of that important stuff. But we have also, on more than one occasion, stared into darkness so deep we feared it might swallow us whole. It feels good to be standing in the light again.
We were walking out the door, Chris and Ames and I, when we received the call that our flight out of town had been canceled. There would be no time to make it up north to fly out of Alaska in time for all of our other travel. No hiking in the desert for Ames’ thirteenth birthday, no celebrating our wedding anniversary in a new city. We will rally, but today feels bad.
I was nearly thirty-seven years old before an artificial Christmas tree darkened my doorstep and lit up my living room. We decorated her tonight. She’s doing the job we need her to do this year and for that, we are grateful.
There is something very powerful — healing, almost — about fighting with the person you’re still choosing to spend the rest of your life alongside.
Per usual, we went hard on Halloween. Per usual, it was awesome. Special thanks to my husband for becoming a photojournalist and following me around all day with his camera. He shot the team at work and the team at home. Also, we were all back and showered and in pajamas by the fire sorting candy at 7:30pm; it was glorious.
There is a theme that repeats itself most Saturday afternoons, where I remember it’s my only real day off and I cannot believe every single thing hasn’t gone right in the week leading up.
Some of it is about me learning to relax, and some of it is about my family learning to love me better. It’s both.