I’m not usually prone to romantic gushy-ness. There just isn’t time for such trivial things in life these days, but as I sit here, listening to one very awake/yet delirious miracle child bouncing around upstairs, I thought one of those “look how far we’ve come” post might be relevant.
Four years ago, in the scorching Florida sun, at a now defunct bed and breakfast in St. Augustine we officially began this journey – about 30 years younger physically – yet completely unaware of what we could and would accomplish.
Almost immediately you were met with the challenge of caring for a very sick wife carrying a high-risk pregnancy, working long hours in the hot sun for pennies, keeping house, cooking, and going to school every evening to make a better life for your family. You accepted everything in stride, and perservered, with a calm assurance that it really would all be okay. Did I ever properly thank you for that, my dear husband? I don’t even know how I would begin.
And then there was Peter Alexander. Born a month early – so small, so wonderous, and so…what was the word we used before we “knew”?…ah yes, spirited. And still, I was so sick, so absorbed in my “important” work, and so insecure as a mother. So you stepped up, you were right there with me for 3 a.m. feedings, you dressed him in the morning and took him to Mama/Papa’s so I could sleep in a few extra minutes, you just had this way with him. I suppose he can sense that about you even now.
Then we had the move, something we knew was for the best, but still a major upheaval and I know how much roots mean to you. You uprooted yourself from your friends, your work, the home you’d known for so very long and entertained my notion to start over in a brand new town, on not much more than a wing and a prayer. It was the right thing, but it has been incredibly hard. You’re working from home, my new “role” as…what ever the hell I am…financial worries (and the stress of being our sole provider), setting down new roots, new routines, starting over. Once again, you took the the more difficult road, to make a better life for us. Once again, I have no words to thank you.
Then there was (and is) Autism. It knocked the wind out of us and everything in our little world was turned upside down. Yet in many ways, it was finally put into perspective. Your love for Peter has never waivered. Your gentle patience tested at times, but your gift of silent perserverence shines through.
So, as we arrive at June 18, 2009, and celebrate four years of marriage. I look back on those two “kids” who really had no idea what they were getting themselves into on that day – but who believed that love conquered all – and looked to the future with light and ambition in our eyes.
We’ve been dealt a lifetime of trials, and a lifetime of unexpected joys in our journey together thus far. I know that this past year in particular has been a great challenge and it has not been our best. Yet in some ways, I think that the more we have to fight everyone else, the more you and I become WE.
My biggest fear used to be that you’d leave me, or that you’d merely stay with me due to circumstance. Now my biggest fear is that something out of our control will take us apart from each other. I know that we don’t have much time for each other these days, and that often when we do, we are both so mentally exhausted we just need individual time – but I want you to know UNEQUIVOCALLY that I love you more today than I did yesterday, and I love our life (as convoluted as it may be at times) more now than I could’ve ever imagined four years ago.
In the meantime, I’ll try not to micro-manage every moment of life, and learn from you how to live in the moment more. And, if you’re so inclined, maybe you could take the recycling out or load the dishwasher once in a while.
Most importantly though, I promise to appreciate you, and our perfectly flawed little life (and not sweat the small stuff) because in the grand scheme of things, we are truly blessed beyond belief.
Happy 4th Anniversary, Gustavo. I wish for at least 66 more (maybe on that one we’ll finally clean out the piggy bank and make it to Paris)!
With all my love,