Saturday, August 23, 2008
Happy 5th, Babe
Five years ago today we started down the road we now walk together. I do not discount all the years before, those years laid a foundation and created the space to learn and let our marriage thrive. But these years, the 5 that have passed in the blink of an eye, I can truly say have been special and solid in a way that nothing has before.
I know that it is not always romantic, there are many nights were we slump on the couch or bed, weary and finding few words to say. But those nights are not the norm. They are the exception. We have those nights and then they are redeemed by a night when we share all of our dreams, for them and for ourselves, we imagine a future and discuss the present. We give opinions and somehow, always still make each other laugh. The good kind of laugh, you know, the kind when your side aches a bit from the effort.
We have done a lot in five years. Made a life that includes these little people, expressions from us, but not us.
Shaping them with our selves and our love. I caught Owen watching us as we were kissing the other day. He was fascinated and I felt warm, thinking how wonderful it is that he gets to be a part of something, a partnership that is rooted in love.
There is no one that makes me feel the way you do. When I see you holding your sons, kissing them tenderly, swooping them out of danger, or reasoning with them at the dinner table, I pause and think this could not possibly be the 17 year old that started this thing with me so many many years ago.
And you are not. Because you are now a husband and a father of extraordinary caliber. You have always been of extraordinary caliber, but I do not think either of us knew how deep.
So now, for the tradition:
You are sacrificed bike rides so that I can have a break.
You are the rock of support that holds us, gives us a foundation so strong and safe and unwavering.
You are shared dead of night wake-ups, disgruntled but willing.
You are scratchy kisses and quiet embraces in the dark of their room as we listen to them sleep breath.
You are so much more. You are a strong man, always learning, giving, striving to find your place, crafting our home, mowing the lawn with a push mower, and somehow, always still having the generosity of spirit to give a little bit more of yourself.
You still make me excited. You have always made me happy. And I will love you for 5 more years, 50 more years, 500 more years...as long as they give us.