Well, there went July.
And there went 10 years… In the best of ways, of course.
Today marks 10 years since I married the boy, and I feel as though it was the right move. We’ve always had a lot of good going for us, even in the face of internal and external challenges, and have produced great things: Conversations, dinners and the child Iris, for example.
Looking back, it’s possible that we’ve aged since ages 26 and 24. The world has too.
To those of you who were there, thank you so much for being a part of our day. To those we’ve known before and since, thank you for helping us be who we are as individuals, a couple and parents. It all takes a village.
At the end of last week, I came down with my first real illness since Iris’ birth. Because of this, the wee one spent Friday night with her grandparents, and the hubs and I spent a good portion of Saturday as just the two of us.
It put me in mind of the years before we got married, when we would spend Saturdays holed up in the finished attic/living room of his apartment, hanging out with the roommates and assorted girlfriends, cable TV and Miller High Life. While there are a number of things about those days that just wouldn’t suit us now, I do miss the freedom to be lazy and not run my weekend according to a to-do list.
Saturday also happened to be the 14th anniversary of my sweety and me becoming an official couple. The me then would have been amused with the way that now us marked the occasion. He did roof work, talked to the neighbors and harvested pears from our tree out back. I meandered around the house in a cold med daze, managing to do a load of laundry and make gold beet soup (with greens!), but mostly stretched on the couch with my laptop.
When I pulled out the photo pictured above, I saw two kids with bottle-dyed dark hair, and myself with red nails. I used to hate having my picture taken, though I was likely wearing more makeup than I would on a first date today.
How times do change. It can be bittersweet, but it’s all for the best. I hope you have a lovely week!
Yes, we’re still working through the zucchini that our huge plants keep producing.
The majority of it ends up getting diced and thrown in with quinoa or spaghetti. Recently, though, I decided to try something different – zucchini dogs.
Here’s how it went down:
I don’t markedly observe death dates. I don’t feel ‘down’ or visit the cemetery; I don’t mention the fact to those who don’t already know. I think about the significance of the date, sure, but I like to keep my annual rituals happy – there’s already enough to be blue about in the world.
The only thing I do is draw little black curtains around the day on my calendars. It’s enough for me, and adds just the right touch of drama. Fitting.
But today is different. It is the 15th anniversary of my father’s death.