He’s in the middle of this whirlwind travel schedule — and I’m in the middle of Shark Bites, and a toddler that will not eat, and they found the Elf again. (I hid him in the oven this time.) Oh, yes. The tooth fairy is making a visit tonight, and I have no dollars on hand. It is tough to find common ground in our separate worlds. His crazy travel schedule is unusual for us. We’re not used to it. Things will settle down again on Thursday. (He has Mini-Mall duty.)
He made a surprise stop home last week — something unexpected came up. Actually, I think he was inspired by this post to come and see us. We are both tired, and exhausted, and the kids ate up what little energy we had left in the evening. I did notice something in the brief period he was home, though. I noticed how relaxed and comfortable I felt around him. It’s not that I don’t feel that way all the time — but this time, I noticed it. This is something common to all life partners — a familiarity that leaves you free to just be you, without having to explain your current mood, your quirks, your hot spots and your weaknesses. It’s all sweetly understood, accepted, and most likely, cherished. It feels like “relief” at the end of the day.
Saturday night, we celebrated our anniversary. My favorite babysitter spent the night and watched the boys, and I was free to meet my husband at the hotel where his conference was being held. It was so nice to have a few hours with him, free from the constant care of the boys — and their laundry — for a few hours.
So, the year was 1993. Gorgeous Spring day, with “not a cloud in the sky,” as my husband always recalls the day. The sun was shining on us that day. My father’s toast was precious — I’ll always remember it.
“My wish for you, is that your love will last as long as it takes to use an eye-dropper to empty the ocean.”