August 22, 2011 § 5 Comments
Before you say anything, I know what you're thinking.
But there was nothing I could do- WordPress wouldn't allow it.
So sappy slideshow it is.
You see, dear Kenny, whenever I think about where we are, I can’t help but think about where we’ve been. Hence the pictures. To me, you are still the boy bounding up and down the stairs to the UMin house, suspenders hanging from worn jeans and a smile perpetually on your face. You were special to me then, I knew, though I didn’t know just how much. Somehow you managed to take up every available space in my mind as I fought to complete college and by the end, you’d moved into my life in a permanent way (but I wouldn’t say “marriage” for at least two more years…we’re tortoises, you and me). You were the one who first got me on a road bike, who laughed with my friends and insisted on holding my hand. You knew good milk and supported my writing. You climbed mountains with me and danced with me, walked with me and just sat with me. And you fell in love with Hood Canal and Alaska, too. Boy, oh boy. A better servant, I’d never met. Without fail, you were at the ready if anyone was in need, full of energy when others were tired. You’ve always “followed hard” after God, a light shining on everyone even if they thought it was just warmth from the sun. I doubt you will ever tire of being loving, kind, and genuine. It’s just who you are. I will keep learning from you. I marvel. Remembering where we were and what we were doing this time last year is pretty surreal. I believe time wouldn’t slow down no matter how much I willed it to and, after putting on that dress that I would never wear again, I felt a peace as soon as I saw you, a peace that had evaded me for 10 months. My Kenny. Never before had I felt so sure of where I was supposed to be. I’d marry you any day of the week. The rest of that day is a blur that we only remember with the help of lovely photographers and storyteller friends (though we hear this is normal). And after that crazy few hours, hello marriage! We survived Christmas, celebrated birthdays (some of us more than once), blended laundry, inherited chickens, watched way too many episodes of The Office, established a Trader Joes routine, and just plain laughed.I praise God for this year, for the years together before that, and for the years ahead. Celebrating us means celebrating Him, for His plan and His grace. I pray we remember that. Here’s to one down, 74 more to go. To this, my love.