3 years and counting

Sunday, October 28, 2012

(I'm a bit late posting this, as our anniversary was back in August, but writing letters to each other is a bit of a tradition with us. These letters are a part of our story, even a part of Evie's story, so I share them here.)

To my husband, on our third wedding anniversary:

This morning began with a slightly grumpy, but mostly groggy, muffled by the pillows "happy anniversary" exchange between the two of us. You rolled into bed as I rolled out and made my way down the hallway with a baby in one arm and pillow under the other, hoping to let our heathen child play in the living room floor as I got a few more minutes of sleep. . . that didn't happen. (Does it ever?)

I was surprised to find a bouquet of flowers and a note on the side table in the living room. I guess that's the one good thing about being in the busy, exhausted, not a lot of time for each other state that we've been in lately - I completely forgot that boys usually buy girls flowers on these kinds of days. I went back into the bedroom and tried to sneak into bed next to you to thank you, but you just grunted and rolled over with the covers pulled over your head. I snuck out of the bedroom, kicking myself for waking you up so many times this morning. This is your day as much as it is mine. I had intended on getting up early to have breakfast ready when you got home from work, but had a horrible night of sleep. . . so that didn't happen. (Once again, when does it ever?)

I'm writing all of this out because I know someday, in just a few short years, we'll read through this letter with smiles on our faces and get all nostalgic about the point of our lives that we're in right now. Regardless of all of the sleepless nights and hectic days we've been having lately, we have a beautiful life together. On our first anniversary I wrote you a letter and talked about the fact that you brought me peace when I married you, and the same still rings true. I can be on the verge of tears, flustered, panicking, convinced this bad day will never end and you'll wander down the hallway, kiss me with your sleepy breath, and all the stresses of the day go away. I can breathe. I can smile. My patience returns. You're like a breath of fresh air.

I feel so much gratitude when I think about the different paths I could have taken, the different lives that I could have had, but I chose you and I've never regretted that. All my life I never imagined I would find someone that gives me as much joy as you do, someone who is as perfectly suited to be my partner as you are. You are my axis. You keep my grounded and moving at the same time. I've never met someone as inherently good as you are. You are kind in a way that seems effortless, and loving in ways that make me want for little. You are adventurous and fearless in ways that I can only hope to be. I plan and talk of adventures, but you are the feet to my words. You push me to say, "Sure let's sell the truck and buy a Volkswagon bus to adventure in," or "Of course I'm up for gypsying our way through New Mexico for a week or two," or "Let's hike seven miles with a baby and camp in the mountains for a few days." You help me fight out my soul battles, so that I can approach this life with courage and ease. Your love, this marriage is like nothing I've seen. We seem to have been designed for each other. While most women feel trapped in their marriage, I am lifted up by you. It is a beautiful thing to love and be free at the same time. We are the exception, the love that most people spend their lives searching for and some never find. Im so glad we found each other.

It's hard to believe that it has already been a year since we stood in front of our first little home on base, you wearing your blues, me sporting the beginnings of a baby bump, and Evie just a bundle of cells. You and I have grown so much since then. This has probably been one of the most stressful years we'll ever have together, but also one of the most memorable. I'm glad we let it all bring us closer together as we worked as a team instead of letting it overwhelm us and pull us apart. However, let's make a deal that this next year will be quite a bit less eventful - no more house buying or baby having, mmk? I look forward to spending this year and many more with you. You and Evie are the best parts of my life, my favorites. If I die having only loved you and mothered her, I will die a happy woman. Growing old with you is one of the greatest privileges I've been given.

Three years and counting - Let's make it 70+ more!

All the Love in the Universe,
Andrea Lane Jacobs


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