16 years

So, yesterday my husband and I celebrated 16 years of marriage.

What does that mean? 16 years?

Joy? Pain? Trial? Laughter? Tears? Giddy Love? Blinding Rage? Safety? Fear?

What can I say? YES. All of the above.

And here we stand, together, side by side. We have seen dark days, walking through that valley (the one with the shadow of death hanging over) and came to the other side hand in hand. We have seen glorious days (those that contain wonderful things like the sparkling light in the eyes of little people who look a lot like us). We have hurt each other terribly. We have forgiven each other over and over. We have helped each other to stand back up when we stumble. We have held each other through sorrow. And we've laughed. So much laughter.

We have learned, argued, shared, and prayed together. We have built things with our own hands, all the while making fun of the directions (written by someone whose first language was NOT English). Together we stood over our son's hospital bed. Together we smiled (and cried) as he walked (the second time) back and forth between us. Together, we proudly looked on as our daughter stood up and played her violin in front of a roomful of strangers.

The history is rich and intricate. The intertwining of our lives so delicate and yet as strong as steel cable.

What is 16 years?

A lifetime of moments, big and small, painfully tender and raucously joyful, a re-creation of self into an us. Measured by time and yet eternal.

I love you, Marc.