Commemoration

Dear Hub,

Seven years ago, I told myself over and over again to be present in each moment, to make memories of every second, to make sure that the day didn’t rush by and leave me with a hazy recollection of bits and pieces. Of course, one of my most vivid memories is reminding myself to be present.

I do remember that day. I remember getting up so early, even though I didn’t really sleep, with a smile on my face and a flutter in my heart. I remember sitting in that tiny room, listening to people coming in, excited voices arriving for the two of us. I remember being much calmer than I thought I could be (as you know, calm is not the first word anyone would use to describe me). I remember a tingle of relief when my sister’s zipper wouldn’t cooperate, because it meant that the bug in the ointment for the day wasn’t on me (sorry, Sis, it all worked out for the best). I remember not being able to name all the emotions I felt, because there were too many. I remember your face when we finally got to see each other. And I remember smiling the whole live long day.

I’m sorry we didn’t get to dance as much as we would have liked, or had enough time to talk to everybody individually. I’m sorry the party had to end and that it didn’t end soon enough. I’m sorry everything did flew by at the speed of sound and I couldn’t catch it all in a jar forever and ever.

But I’m not sorry we crashed the after party we weren’t invited to, if only for that look on my grandmother’s face when we walked in looking for food. We’re lucky she didn’t faint.

There still aren't enough words to tell you how I feel about you.

It was a beginning, one we knew we were taking together, but we didn’t know what would happen after that first step. We just held hands and jumped. I’m so glad we did. And I'm so glad we jump over and over again every day. I love you bunches.

Wifey