Year One

A year ago tomorrow was our wedding day! The love and light from that amazing day will never fade. It's said that life is made up of the simple things and I can say that lines up with what we've experienced this year.  We love to think back upon those butterfly effect moments, those simple things, that led us to where we are today and it's thrilling to think that as we go about each day, we live many other butterfly effect moments that will lead us to where we go tomorrow.

In knowing Adam for four years, I've learned lots about him. But there are times in our life that what I learn about him comes in gigantic waves. We were surprised to find out early this summer that we would be expecting a baby early in 2013. I will never forget Adam's expression when I told him. His eyes lit up and for the first time, we began thinking about the family we were beginning. What do we do? I don't even know how to make kneecaps or anything! Within weeks, we settled into the grand idea that we would shortly be welcoming our first little one. I bought Adam the first book that he would read the baby and when we were in New York, we picked up a West Point onesie, so we would be prepared for football games. We shared the news with Adam's family and I sent a book to surprise my parents with the news.

Just a day after I sent this book, we lost the baby. I can't accurately explain the horror of the experience without detailing the entire process. It truly was awful. But we reminded ourselves to be grateful because it could have been worse. I cried for days and it was difficult to get used to the idea that I was only me again. But Adam truly provided so much of what I needed to be able to move ahead. I struggled quite a bit with the idea that our little one was not given a proper goodbye but Adam had the most assuring response and although it was so difficult, we made it through together. We decided to name our little one and to light up one of those paper balloons that you send into the sky. Of all the memories of our first year, although it is the most sad, it also is the sweetest. Knowing that I am married to a man of character that is strong and caring and supportive is absolutely priceless and it makes celebrating our first anniversary that much sweeter.

So, to my husband, whom I love more than anything... thank you for all of our special memories. You make my life rich and beautiful every single day. I love you.

The Very Happiest Day

The day, September 24th, was a remarkable day. It had snowed in Breckenridge the weekend before, but when we arrived, the weather was absolutely perfect. The temperature was in the low to mid-60's. The sun was out and the trees were beginning to change. Lots of people had come into town that weekend to see the beautiful weather and many strangers ended up being guests at our very special wedding.

The weekend had been so busy with so many loved ones around. Everyone worked so hard to make our wedding wishes come true. We had family preparing the rehearsal dinner, folks hanging paper lanterns in the reception room, and bridesmaids searching Breckenridge for the perfect wedding townie bike.









I shuffled from one event to the next and all of a sudden it was the afternoon of our wedding day. And I was alone. I walked down Main Street wearing a summery halter dress and trailing my veil from a bag I carried over my shoulder. The cool breeze and hot fall sun made me super happy. I stopped to get a sandwich at the patisserie, a bottle of wine at the the liquor store, and a toy for Wyatt at the pet store.


The people of Breckenridge made this day so
marvelous. The man at the liquor store added a little bonus to my bag. The tourists smiled and waved as we passed by in our wedding garb. The man in the rickshaw offered to pedal me to the ceremony site... right up to my dear grandfather who was waiting to walk me down the aisle. Their kindness was too much for me to take in that moment.

I walked across the bridge at the Riverwalk with my grandfather who handed me off to my father who walked me down to Adam. We got married right at the stone steps that overlook the Blue River. The sun was in its full glory, lighting up the trees and giving the perfect glow to my veil. The sunlight glistened off the water and I had never felt such a beautiful day before in all my life. Townspeople and tourists gathered at the opposite side of the bank to witness our ceremony. It was truly remarkable.

And this is what I said that day: "I, Stephanie, take you, Adam, to be my husband, God's precious gift to me. You are my constant friend, my faithful partner in our lifelong adventure, and my one true love. On this day, in the presence of God and all our family and friends, I give to you my pledge to stay by your side. To love you faithfully, to trust you and honor you through the best and worst of times. I promise to love you without reservation, to comfort you in times of distress, to encourage you to achieve all of your goals, to laugh with you and cry with you, and to always be open and honest with you. May we daily be prepared for God’s own divine purposes. I will love you today, tomorrow, and forever."

Eric, our pastor, gave a very touching closing remark at the end of the ceremony. One that I will always remember. And after a very joyous kiss and backwards dip, we left the ceremony site as man and wife. All of our completely wonderful friends and family followed through with our request to bring silly props: wax lips, feather boas, patriotic hats, funny sunglasses; and we headed around for a loop of Breckenridge. It was such a fun way to start off the party - we love-love-loved it.

Adam and I snuck away to a grassy hill and sat together for a wonderful moment before we came in to the reception. We ate and danced and toasted and I smashed cake in my love's face. And it was a wonderful, wonderful day. Many thanks to all the very, very special people who made our wedding such a delight. We love you and miss you every single day.

Lucky Lady!

Since mid-March, life has flown by and I've neglected to mention the most exciting news of all. Adam and I are engaged! My love asked me to marry him on March 24 while we were walking along the National Mall, right at the foot of the Washington Monument. Adam had the ring sent to the hotel. He suggested we go to see the monuments lit up, so we took the Metro to DC and ran between the monuments. We only had a short time until the Metro stopped running, so we had to move it. It was a wonderful evening. We celebrated our engagement at the Hard Times Cafe near our house. It was the only place open and the name made us laugh.

I really should be more eloquent about the whole event, but what I really want to say is how wonderful Adam is. I am far too blessed for words. Adam is an incredible man... consistent, dedicated, wise, loving, gentle, encouraging. He has strong morals. He is patriotic and adventurous. He is athletic and positive. I am excited for the life ahead and incredibly thrilled to be spending it with Adam.

I am a lucky, lucky girl.

Ok, Fine...

I admit... marriage is a good thing.

It took me a while to find myself out of that bitter, hate-the-world stage I was in just after Rob and I split up. After everything ended, I couldn't care less about anything. There was almost nothing that mattered to me. I became pretty desensitized. I remember being at my best friend's wedding. The bouquet toss. All the lovely single ladies clustered together like a flock of geese... gaggling about catching the bouquet. And calloused, newly 'single' me, remained a hefty 20 yards away, just to be sure there was no danger in me catching anything. I even folded my arms. Yet, due to the gradually intensifying heckling I underwent from my friends and the single guys in the area, I reluctantly agreed to step 10 yards forward. I figured it would appease my best friend if I at least participated. Well, I'm sure you can guess what happened next... the bouquet sails through the air as though it were an arrow, and I, its magnificent target. Whap! It hits the ground right at my feet. Had I held my arms away from my body, as is tradition in an event of this sort, I would have caught it. I glared at it. Devil poison. Get thee back, you detestable beast. You love-rubbish.

Don't worry. I was peer-pressured into picking it up.

Anyway, that one event describes quite perfectly my feelings on marriage and love at the time. I was exactly the girl you did NOT want at your wedding. Well, I've found my way through the days since then and somehow have come out on the other side of this terrible stage. Singed, perhaps... but suffering no third-degree burns as I thought I had.

Marriage is worth it. I know that now.

No Chance

When I roll the dice, I've got a one in 36 chance of rolling doubles, right? Maybe it's a two in 36 chance. I did not take statistics.

Rob and I never had a chance for a family or the kind of life that you look forward to on your wedding day. Even if we had worked everything out and pulled everything together, there still was no chance for any of that. I still would have lost him. It makes me angry. You look at our wedding photos and everything seems so possible. It was a huge lie. And in the meantime, our dear friends are getting married and making decisions and living life together. They encounter problems and struggle through the muck together and they thrive in the huge joys of life together.

It's almost as though I started a race with my knees bound together. Although this makes me angry... I should probably rephrase my ideas. Rob and I together never had a chance. And Rob now has no chance for any of that. I have days left of my life... weeks and years perhaps. And maybe one of those days will bring me a chance for all this. But Rob never had that.

Perspective

At one time in my life, I had a perspective that was far outside myself. I feel like I used to care for other people more deeply than I do now. That sounds terrible, I know. What is it that has turned my perspective so inward? The things that have transpired in my life in the last few years has left me wondering about my own life. Maybe my perspective has changed because there is so much in my own life that I can't control... so much that is unsure. But it's always been like that, hasn't it?

I remember when Rob was sick and I knew it was something I couldn't control, I still had a healthy perspective.

It's funny. I think when people get married, they fall into this false sense of security. I certainly did. And that security made me forget that I wasn't guaranteed anything. Nothing. I wasn't guaranteed a happy marriage. I wasn't guaranteed years or children or family. I wasn't even guaranteed another single minute. Yet I felt so secure and so settled. How deceiving are our emotions? It makes me curious about what my security is based on. It has got to be based on something solid and secure.

This brings my thoughts back to faith. I used to be so steady. I can get that back. Putting aside those things that are temporal and pursuing what lasts... love and relationship, right?

Bleary, Bleary Eyes

I couldn't really explain exactly what I'm thinking now. It's a mixture of many things, I am sure. But my eyes are bleary and I can't breathe through my nose. It's been a while since I had a sob-fest. But here it is...

I married a wonderful man. There was so much to love. So much to be grateful for and so much to hold on to. Yet, after a series of years of leaving our issues unspoken, a rift cut through every good thing. And all that was left between us was bitter words and threats and painful, seething wounds. And if that was all it was, maybe that would be bearable.

But no matter which way you look at it, I was bound to lose. We were bound to lose. Because today he is a shell of who he once was. You would never recognize him if you saw him. And one of the only things that remains distinguishing him as my beloved husband is his love of mint chocolate chip icecream. His crippled body can't even position itself for rest. But I look into his eyes and I can see he understands every bit of what is going on around him. He isn't in a fog. He isn't confused. He knows. Yet he can't scrape together the syllables he needs to convey what he is thinking. And for me, the rift is gone and I can't remember the bitter words and the painful, seething wounds. To be truthful, I can barely even remember the good times. But what I do remember is that I loved him. And that has never - not for one second - faded away. So when I look in his eyes, I see the eyes that promised to love me forever. His swollen hands were the hands I held as we walked happily down the aisle - finally man and wife.

He is no longer my husband. It is what it is. Who is to say if I am better or worse off? But I don't want to leave someone that I love without hope. So I stay by his side.

I wonder sometimes what he does remember. Do his medications leave him with little memory? Or are those memories all he has? Does he remember taking his bride into their bedroom to make love for the first time? Does he remember all the silly jokes they had? (This picture is of us sucking our cheeks in... he isn't so good at it).

He called her his partner in crime once. And does he remember how beautiful life was? I hope he does. Because it is hard to see the beauty in the life he has now. And if God had any mark of decency, wouldn't He take him now? How can he leave him in this condition to die... or even worse - to simply grow old?