They say you won’t be able to sleep the night before your wedding, and that, the day of your wedding, you will be jittery and nervous. Last night when I went to sleep, I got to thinking about how none of that had been true for me, exactly four years ago.
The night before my wedding, I was excited, but not nervous. I slept well, if little: the “little” part was only because it had been a late night visiting with family and because I had to get up early the next morning to get beautiful. I remember the strange realization that fell over me as I crawled into my childhood bed, head on “The Little Mermaid” pillowcase that my mom had put there (probably with emotions that I can only begin to understand now that I’m a mother.)
I realized that I wouldn’t be sleeping there anymore, not unless there was some special reason. My best friend and maid-of-honor was sleeping on an air mattress or something in my room, and I realized that I was – for the most part – saying goodbye to Little Mermaid pillowcases and slumber parties (I have since realized that there are some exceptions!)
It was the last of so many things I knew, with infinite firsts on the horizon.
But I slept, and slept well, maybe because I knew that it was all new for Dane, too. That’s what marriage is, in large part: loving someone enough to say, “Hey, whatever it is, this life together, I want it with you. Let’s jump into the unknown, holding hands. You are my person, and we will help each other with all the firsts & all the lasts, too.”
Four years later, and I know there is no one else that I’d rather be holding my hand. We are blessed to share so many things in common: creative interests, nerdy stuff, morals and values, perspectives on family and faith. We enjoy each other, though we are not perfect at all. We are also incredibly different from one another in ways that can make things challenging for us sometimes.
In the way we approach life, we couldn’t be more opposite: I’m over here clumsily juggling 20 balls in the air (and dropping some, like “oh well!”) Meanwhile, he’s in the opposite corner, slowly and carefully entering each task into a spreadsheet, thinking of the best way to get each thing done. I’m more emotional, passion-driven. He is more practical, rule-oriented. Sometimes we step on each other’s toes.
Sometimes we also show our affection in different ways, which can mean that, sadly, we often miss what the other has done in a wholehearted effort to say, “I love you.” When we have these differences, though, we are both learning to grasp the realization that what the other was trying to say was, in fact, “I love you,” and that’s really what matters most.
We’ve been through a lot of death and a lot of change in four short years, and I think it’s made us both realize how short life is. And this year we celebrate our anniversary with our little girl. I think she has made our hearts grow larger, so that as our love for her has grown, our love and appreciation for one another has, too. Every day I am grateful for the love that binds us. Every day I am grateful our life together.
Happy 4th Anniversary, Dane!
(Apparently, we are supposed to give each other fruit and flowers.)
3. Relatives who babysit. Grad school has been super tough lately. It’s hard to concentrate for hours at a time on heavy philosophical stuff when your little child is crying and/or needing something and/or scrambling around on the floor, heading for the fireplace. I’ve had some help this week. Kora has had a blast with her family, and it’s been such a blessing to me.
Write Where You Are | Books, Life, Food, a Little Bit of Everything 