Lessons Learned

 

 "Sometimes the lights all shinin on me;

Other times I can barely see.

Lately it occurs to me what a long, strange trip it's been."

- Jerry Garcia

Connecticut, in my childhood home, was the last place I expected to be this summer. Especially in the midst of so much change in my adult home in Texas.  Emily was packing up for college, Kev and I nervously approaching empty nest status, and so many plans in the making. But the late night call came.  My Dad was in the hospital with an aortic aneurism.  I was on the first plane north, while Kev and Em would take on move-in day without me. The two weeks ahead would hold heartbreaks,tears, prayers, resolutions, and a permanent change in my soul. 

I've always loved my parents. I've always known they love each other. But life or death situations have a way of bringing out truest words and "don't hold back" feelings. In the days before surgery, we filled nervous hours with our appreciation for one another.  In the hours before the operation, our tones became a bit more serious, and in the delicate hours following surgery the most beautiful emotions emerged. I thought I might be reading into what I was seeing but my sister-in-law saw the same picture. Though my Dad wasn't able to speak or open his eyes, my parents spoke with the subtle touch of their hands.  These were the gentle touches that assured one another they were together, they were alive, and everything would be ok;  their wordless connections perfected over 46 years of marriage. 

Within two weeks, everything I thought I knew, arrogances I held, and childish misconceptions I hoarded over the years all fell away, were disproven, stripped down until only love and faith remained.  I saw in my parents the love I have for Kevin- the willingness to see through together whatever life brings. A total acceptance of the other.  A bond necessary for a full life.  Without one, the other is but a shell. 

My Dad is well on his way to full recovery.  Despite the hospital setting, and missing Emily's move-in day at UIW, the two weeks in Connecticut were magical life lessons that I will bring home to Texas.  Most importantly, I learned to appreciate Kevin and Emily not only as my husband and daughter but as individual people with their own identities and their own stories to tell. 

The easiest way for me to sum it all up is this: Enjoy this life.  Cherish the people with whom you share it.  Don't hold back on love, kind words and laughter.  It is the stuff that makes this life so alive.  Find the answers you seek.  Ask the questions that scare you the most. Share your story for it is not the great deeds that are treasured,but the small steps we make everyday.

 

LOVE  &  LESSONS LEARNED

 

Twenty Years Later

It's a question most newlyweds ask themselves, half laughing, half dreaming after the vows are said and the bind is legal; "I wonder where we'll be in 20 years?" Asking and never imagining the twisty turny journey of the years ahead where the brave hold fast and a deeper love transcends expectation.

Hubby and I will spend our 20th anniversary in San Antonio, bringing our only child to her college orientation.  Texas would've been my last guess on my wedding day. Just a year prior to our wedding we had fled the great state of Texas after a failed grad school adjustment at Baylor.  It's a hard transition at 21, from liberal Boston to ultra conservative Waco back in the day of the Branch Davidians.  But here we are.  Yankees turned Texans.  With a Southern child who says y'all, loves her guns and cowboy boots. I wouldn't have it any other way.

I've never not known my husband.  We grew up across the street from each other, went to the same high school, went to proms together but not as each other's date.  We went on double dates together, but not as each other's date- even though we'd be playing footsie with each other under the table.  It wasn't until one June when we were both home from college that we started seeing each other as more than just friends.  We figured it was just a summer thing, an odd curiosity, an unusual blip in our life long friendship.  But once September arrived and we returned to our separate colleges, we simply couldn't shake the idea of "us".  Four years later, we married.  My mother swore it would never last.

Twenty years seems like forever when you are 23, but as we all know it zips by with bullet speed and suddenly what was once the fodder of late night discussions is now all written in a shared history.  Looking back, it was twenty years of magical memories and grueling challenges. No matter what we faced, we always stood by each other, defended one another, and put our selfishness aside to be certain we stayed strong as parents, friends, and partners.  Marriage is hard work but yields great reward. And so on our 20th anniversary, as we sip margaritas on the River Walk, I can't help but ask my Hubby, "I wonder where we'll be in 20 years?"

 

LOVE & SOUL MATES