It hit me last night, as I was pulling up to Rubio's for dinner. Something I'd been ruminating on for about a week and had finally put my finger on: we're so lucky and so blessed. This - this moment right now, and the one before, and the one before that, and every one since he got home - is the brass ring, this is what all of the work and sacrifice and tears are about. This life. This bliss.
We have soft, cuddly cats who love us (and tell us so frequently - and loudly)
We have an amazing bed with soft bamboo sheets
We have our little plot in the community garden, with squash and cucumbers o'plenty, the occasional strawberry, and hope yet for tomatoes
We have Saturday morning Farmers Market, with our cloth bags and the vendors we see week after week who know us because we're always there, too
There's laundry - clean, mostly, and tidying, and ceiling fans, and refrigerators to be cleaned out before trash day
And his calling to ask me what I want from Starbucks because I've had a bad day at work
I was so afraid, when he was in Japan, that something would happen before we'd get to the "good part". That nearly two years would go by and then, before we could celebrate his being home, we'd be torn apart by some other, unspecified challenge to overcome. I have always, and will probably always still be, worried about the horrible things that the future might bring. (Yes, I know it's stupid, but that's why it's an irrational fear, people. Stay with me.) But just now I've realized that, while that terrible thing might happen, it can't happen before the good stuff does because the good stuff is right now. Right here. In my amazingly beautiful house (don't ask about the furniture, but the house itself is gorgeous). With my handsome husband. During the college courses I'm taking. While I walk to raise money for breast cancer.
Right now is the very best time of my life and I want to take it all in through each of my senses so that I never forget. No matter what happens tomorrow, I have experienced pure love and joy today.
Showing posts with label happy coupledom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label happy coupledom. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Crazy in Love
You think you know what love is about. You date. You laugh at his jokes, even when they're not funny. You go to nice restaurants and dive restaurants and like them just the same because you're with him. You fumble over the three words the first time you say them...who will say them first? Will he feel the same way? Am I going too fast? Where are we going? And you meet his family (and they meet you). You spend years together, dating, and then you marry and it's the apex of your love. You will never love each other more than you do at that very second that you say, "I do."
Except that's not true. It's not about the big things, the grand gestures, the public displays of affection. It's the smell of his skin when you bury your face in his shoulder while you wait for your deli meat to be sliced. It's the sound of his footsteps, running towards you in the dark because you've forgotten your headphones for the 3-mile training walk you've put off until 9:00 pm on a Sunday. It's feeling the car shake with his laughter when you make fun of the silly suburbanites. It's the first 13th of the month since you were married passing without flowers arriving at work. It's finally - Lord, finally! - being able to sleep soundly through the night in the bed you share with him, because your body and mind have finally - finally! - accepted the fact that he's home, he's yours, and you're safe.
Love validates. It liberates. It makes you feel simultaneously bigger than your house and infinitesimally small. There is no size limit on love, nor time limit, nor any limit at all (unless you place one there). I didn't realize two years ago that we weren't as much in love as we could be, or should be - how could I? Love isn't love until it's tested, until you have to fight for it, until you realize that it can break your heart...and then you hold it even tighter.
I am the luckiest woman in the world and I need no Kate Spade purse (no matter how cheap they are at the Exchange) to feel that way now.
Except that's not true. It's not about the big things, the grand gestures, the public displays of affection. It's the smell of his skin when you bury your face in his shoulder while you wait for your deli meat to be sliced. It's the sound of his footsteps, running towards you in the dark because you've forgotten your headphones for the 3-mile training walk you've put off until 9:00 pm on a Sunday. It's feeling the car shake with his laughter when you make fun of the silly suburbanites. It's the first 13th of the month since you were married passing without flowers arriving at work. It's finally - Lord, finally! - being able to sleep soundly through the night in the bed you share with him, because your body and mind have finally - finally! - accepted the fact that he's home, he's yours, and you're safe.
Love validates. It liberates. It makes you feel simultaneously bigger than your house and infinitesimally small. There is no size limit on love, nor time limit, nor any limit at all (unless you place one there). I didn't realize two years ago that we weren't as much in love as we could be, or should be - how could I? Love isn't love until it's tested, until you have to fight for it, until you realize that it can break your heart...and then you hold it even tighter.
I am the luckiest woman in the world and I need no Kate Spade purse (no matter how cheap they are at the Exchange) to feel that way now.
Monday, April 27, 2009
A little bit of this, a little bit of that
Today marks the last day of my vacation with the hubby. I had originally made ambitious plans to go out of town for the day, but realized over the weekend that I want to spend today with him instead.
We have done some research/shopping (and endless discussion) to try to find new seating for our living room. My old Ikea sofa and chaise have definitely seen better days and need replacement. We are considering either the Oxford collection from Crate and Barrel (latte or chocolate colors) or the PB Comfort collection from Pottery Barn (espresso brushed canvas, I think). They are roughly the same price, so that's not really a huge factor in the decision. I honestly think we're going to need a designer in the end because we simply cannot come to a shared understanding of how to configure the seating arrangement in the living room. Trivial disagreement, I know, but it's something we'll have to live with for a long, long time, so I want to make sure we work through it properly.
In other news, I found a college buddy on Facebook over the weekend and I'm thrilled to be given the opportunity to catch up on her life over the last 15 years. Say what you will about the deterioration of culture brought about by the Internet, but you can't beat it for bringing back friends from your past!
We have done some research/shopping (and endless discussion) to try to find new seating for our living room. My old Ikea sofa and chaise have definitely seen better days and need replacement. We are considering either the Oxford collection from Crate and Barrel (latte or chocolate colors) or the PB Comfort collection from Pottery Barn (espresso brushed canvas, I think). They are roughly the same price, so that's not really a huge factor in the decision. I honestly think we're going to need a designer in the end because we simply cannot come to a shared understanding of how to configure the seating arrangement in the living room. Trivial disagreement, I know, but it's something we'll have to live with for a long, long time, so I want to make sure we work through it properly.
In other news, I found a college buddy on Facebook over the weekend and I'm thrilled to be given the opportunity to catch up on her life over the last 15 years. Say what you will about the deterioration of culture brought about by the Internet, but you can't beat it for bringing back friends from your past!
Friday, April 24, 2009
Two new residents at Casa Suburban Bliss
I have two dwarfs living with me as of today. No, I'm not being politically incorrect about little people, nor am I referring to Sleepy, Happy, or Dopey...it's my new dwarf Meyer Lemon and Clementine Mandarin (orange) trees that I'm talking about. The trees themselves arrived yesterday and the awesome 14" pots today, so Farmer Mick and I went out and did the honors with potting soil, stakes, and garden tape and now their leaves are brightly shining in the sun in front of our entry way. Yay!
Honestly, it's hard to put into words how excited I am about all of our gardening exploits. Running out every day to see how big the soon-to-be-a-gourd squash blossom has gotten, removing the plastic water bottles from atop the lettuce plants (take THAT, Sally Squirrel!) to water then replacing afterwards, and hoping against hope that we'll have plenty of strawberries from the abandoned plot adjacent to mine that I've been watering for a month now...it all makes me irrationally happy. There's something so organic about it (pun not necessarily intended but it does apply as well) and it just makes my spirit sing even though I haven't gone for a walk since Mick got home and the house is cluttered with stuff that came home with Mick and hasn't found a permanent home yet: none of that matters. I am woman and I can grow food, people!
On a separate but related note, I signed up for a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) weekly delivery of organic produce today. I'm not crazy enough to believe that my little veggies that I just planted a month ago are going to provide for all of Mick and my fruit and vegg needs year-round, so we'll get a small box of produce each and every week to help me reach my goal of 3 veggies and 2 fruits each day. (No dieting, just eating better.)
Also, I found a local, free e-waste recycling service in case anyone's interested in getting rid of a bunch of electronics stuff. Perhaps we're the only people in San Diego with way too many old computers, monitors, routers, etc., but I'm guessing not.
Finally, I have to share a little suburban craziness with you: our local strip mall sushi place next door to Starbucks has valet parking. Seriously. (I couldn't think this stuff up.) Because walking two steps from the empty parking spaces surrounding the valet sign is just too much effort out here in Suburbia.
Honestly, it's hard to put into words how excited I am about all of our gardening exploits. Running out every day to see how big the soon-to-be-a-gourd squash blossom has gotten, removing the plastic water bottles from atop the lettuce plants (take THAT, Sally Squirrel!) to water then replacing afterwards, and hoping against hope that we'll have plenty of strawberries from the abandoned plot adjacent to mine that I've been watering for a month now...it all makes me irrationally happy. There's something so organic about it (pun not necessarily intended but it does apply as well) and it just makes my spirit sing even though I haven't gone for a walk since Mick got home and the house is cluttered with stuff that came home with Mick and hasn't found a permanent home yet: none of that matters. I am woman and I can grow food, people!
On a separate but related note, I signed up for a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) weekly delivery of organic produce today. I'm not crazy enough to believe that my little veggies that I just planted a month ago are going to provide for all of Mick and my fruit and vegg needs year-round, so we'll get a small box of produce each and every week to help me reach my goal of 3 veggies and 2 fruits each day. (No dieting, just eating better.)
Also, I found a local, free e-waste recycling service in case anyone's interested in getting rid of a bunch of electronics stuff. Perhaps we're the only people in San Diego with way too many old computers, monitors, routers, etc., but I'm guessing not.
Finally, I have to share a little suburban craziness with you: our local strip mall sushi place next door to Starbucks has valet parking. Seriously. (I couldn't think this stuff up.) Because walking two steps from the empty parking spaces surrounding the valet sign is just too much effort out here in Suburbia.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Worth the wait
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
