dear eric...

I want you to know…

…that this made me laugh out loud.

I want you to know...
that I know my food doesn’t magically appear in the refrigerator.
And I realize it is not elves lending their hands when I fall behind.

And that I was really thankful for the simmering pot of spaghetti sauce on the stove.

I want you to know…
…that I know I am the lucky one.
Because you show me everyday that you are the better half of us.
And that I am thankful for the Dad you are…
and that we share a Savior.

I want you to know…
…that it touches me my heart when you say I am the best wife ever…
but that I know, in reality, you’d like your clothes ironed and put away once in a while.
(but I makes cupcakes… and really, isn’t that more important?)

I want you to know…
…that when you send me a message, it is my pleasure to listen…
because I love you.

Sorry they were out of your favorite kind...

when i was eight

It was kind of a secret... that I got to go. None of the other grandchildren were invited, or ever had been. But for some reason... they wanted to take me. And that summer, I traveled farther than I had ever traveled before. To Virginia, with my grandparents. To visit my Aunt Rose & Uncle Bill. It was a privilege to go... a huge one, and I knew it. I was the good girl. The quiet one. The one who would not think to speak up and make a fuss. Maybe that was the reason they took me...

I have such vivid memories of this trip...
staying at the Holiday Inn along the way
singing hymns in the backseat with my Golden Books Hymnal
marveling that a tunnel could run beneath the harbor
discovering the little cedar gifts in the rest stops along the way
drinking milk with ice cubes
the little girl next door having to go to the hospital in the middle of the night
finding oysters along the Chesapeake with Aunt Rose
the little captain's bed that I slept in
...and going to Busch Gardens in Williamsburg with Uncle Bill.

It felt like we were there all of ten minutes, but in retrospect, it had to have been at least a little bit longer. I recall the bright sun and the bustle of people moving through a sea of those giant tissue paper flowers. My Uncle really wanted to take me on the roller coaster, but Aunt Rose said no. I was treated to a real souvenir... a navy & light blue hat that said The Old Country, and I saw the Clydesdale horses for the first time... probably because they were near the beer tent and that was where my Grandpa was sitting, waiting for us to go. And I like to think... that I caught a glimpse of my husband.

Okay, it is probably not true. But I do so love that old episode of Mad About You when Jamie & Paul run into each other as kids in the museum on a school field trip. And Eric could have been there... at Busch Gardens... in Virginia. He was actually there that same summer. (And I can't imagine that his Dad would have missed the beer tent.) So maybe... or maybe not. Sure is fun to dream though...

a step forward

In the darkness... we headed out. Quiet. Both of us thinking... praying. His fingers wrapped themselves around mine and his thumb skipped over my fingernails again and again. There was worship music on the radio and in the midst of my conversation with God, I answered the question How great.... how great is my God? Great. Really great. In my quivering heart, I still know the answer to that question... and I am thankful.
We continued moving along down the road... his hand only leaving mine to bump the windshield wipers a bit every now and again... and another song came on the radio. Born Again. I don't think it is necessarily the words of the song that get to me... but what I feel when I hear it. The breath of Jesus all around me... like wind in my face... a caress of grace. And while I was busy picturing myself sitting in the palm of God's hand, in a puddle of my own tears... it came to me that maybe... the splashes around me were simply His grace raining down on me.
I'm okay... home again. And still uncomfortable. But with a smidgen of an answer in my pocket. And maybe some healing coming my way. But most of all... I feel loved. By my family... and my friends. And if you didn't know... that includes you.

two

Blue jeans and wedding pearls.
A white shirt and splashing spaghetti sauce.
Popcorn and sno-caps.
Julie & Julia.
Hand holding... and a little kissing.
Love and memories.
It was an evening I hope to always remember.

love and life

On this day, seventeen years ago... I awoke with anticipation of a fairy tale day, and no less than a thousand dreams in my heart. Dreams of all of the tomorrows in my life, and what they might bring... growing old with my sweetheart. I was a girl headed towards her wedding day with beautifully tinted rose-colored glasses perched on her nose... seeing the bountiful celebrations that life would surely unfold. But what I didn't see was all of the life that would happen between the celebrations...

The swollen ankles and high blood pressure that my pregnancies would bring... and the way he would seemingly hold our life together doing dishes, serving dinner and washing clothes on top of his work hours when the doctor ordered bed rest. (Seems he may have set a pace for himself as he has continued lending his loving hands to those tasks still today.)

The moments of great sorrow... eyes, loss, health. The moments that would cause pain to our hearts and bring us to our knees. In prayer. Together.

The afternoons when the stress of life would wrapped itself around my heart and an easy breath would be a luxury... and the arms that could somehow ease the anxieties just by pulling me in and holding me close to his beating heart.

Nights when his methods would made me chuckle, as he, with the kids, would be sprawled across the couch watching another episode of Cops, learning what getting into trouble really was. (But perhaps there is no more vivid way to share the real consequences of bad behavior than to share the examples in living color.)

The screeches of laughter that would bounce off the walls that we would call home... as yet another penguin or kitty cat was taken hostage at bedtime. And the way the serene images of what bedtime should be would turn into mayhem.

If that girl had removed her rose-colored glasses, racing across North Scituate as the sun was dawning on her big day... she might have thought about the homework... the dirty socks on the floor... the heavy hearts... the tears... the crumbs scattered across the counter... the bright faces that would someday wiggle in the pew. But she would have raced just the same. Towards life... and all that it might bring. Because the lessons life has to offer... and the beautiful mess that life can be, and is on a daily basis... those were treasures for another day. Treasures to unearth with your Love by your side, as year after year the love grows just a little deeper... into something that a little girl of just twenty could have never imagined.

this ain't no rodeo...

Maybe it started out rough... a crackling microphone and music playing loudly over the announcer... but all in all, it was an awesome night. Okay... two nights. My husband loves me, and he knew that even though I said one night would be enough, that maybe I'd like to go both nights. Oh yeah... he loves me. And my quirky hobbies.
What an experience... to be in an arena full of cowboys. To me... they embody the American spirit... or at least what I want it to be. Hard work, lending a hand to your neighbor, honoring our country, and praising Jesus... all mixed in with a lot of dirt, and a little glory. I was as fascinated by the bull wranglers behind the chutes as I was by the bull riders. The climbing on the rails, up and over... and into the pens... somehow directing the bulls into the chutes. These cowboys are not afraid of hard work or getting dirty... I think they live for it.
When the Marines processed in with the American flag, people rose to their feet and removed their beloved cowboy hats... without an announcement asking them to do so. And before the real action began... there was prayer. Cowboys on bended knee in the dirt, hats over their hearts... asking Jesus to watch over them. No, they were not afraid to pray in the name of Christ Jesus. These guys give everything they have... and appreciate everything they get.

I enjoyed every minute... I laughed, I screamed... and occasionally, I covered my eyes. Win or lose... eight seconds or one... these cowboys love what they do. And it shows... in their laughter, a hearty hand shake, and a lot of dirt caked on their jeans. And as they say... This ain't no rodeo... this is the PBR!

wedding starts with w

In less than two weeks, Eric & I will celebrate the seventeen years that we have shared with each other since our wedding. Seventeen years. It makes me smile. It fills my heart with love... still. It was a beautiful day... but more importantly, it was the beginning of a beautiful life... and a promises of many more years to come.

Working my way from Z to A with Jen at Unglazed!

just us

In every life there are days of joy and just as many others of frustration... and so many that seem to lack the necessary hours of extra time to spend... time for just us. But this month... has been a gift. Without those two sweet smiling faces gracing our home, we have had time to focus on each other... on ourselves, on our home. There have been many evenings that have included simply sitting... watching something on television... quiet between us, with perhaps just a burst of spontaneous laughter. But sometimes words aren't needed... and in the quiet, we are comfortable. And comfortable is good. And it seems, for as many quiet evenings, there have been other evenings and days when we have headed off on a whim... for a movie... for ice cream... for an unnecessary errand... for fun. And it is just nice to know... that when the time comes and we are on our own again, that we actually still like each other. That we can still make our own fun together. That we both cherish the comfortable. And so this is my gift to unwrap today... and maybe again and again when the moments between us get tense... or we feel like we are just passing each other in the hall, not pausing to see the love we share. And as much as I am looking forward to whooping and shouting when those kids come racing up the walk tomorrow evening... I will miss the times it has been... just us.