1996

June of 1996, and I felt like a grown-up. Well, I mostly felt like a grown-up. Part of the time, I was still plenty happy to sit at my Papaw’s knee (I had outgrown his lap years before) and hear him call me “Baby.” (Ok– truth is, I’d still do that today.)

But the rest of the time, I was an adult. I had earned my BA. I had a job that required business attire. I flossed my teeth daily.

So why is it that when I look back on pictures the day I publicly proclaimed the choice that has shaped my entire life, I see two kids?

 

I was 21 when I married my husband. I had met him four years earlier, days after I unpacked my belongings in a dorm room with cinder block walls. Within weeks, I knew he was the one. Yeah, I’m going to marry him, I realized.  The thought thrilled me and terrified me all at once. By the time I walked down the aisle, I was at peace with the fact that this guy? The one who liked cheese from a can? The one who wore Woody Allen-style glasses when his contacts came out at night? The one who always saw the best in people, even when logic dictated otherwise? He was my partner for life.

I thought I knew what I was doing when I took my vows. I thought I knew the man standing beside me. I thought I knew myself. Funny how nineteen years have a way of showing you how wrong you were.

I had no idea that sickness could look like sobbing into his chest while I miscarried our long-awaited baby, or praying, white-knuckled, that it wasn’t a stroke as I followed an ambulance with him secured inside. I had no idea that poorer could involve popping tylenol to kill the pain of an abscessed tooth because we didn’t have dental insurance, or finding a zillion creative ways to cook dried beans.

I had no idea that health would someday not be a given, and that richer might actually mean faith and children and friendships and family game nights instead of vacations to exotic locations.

I had no idea that the idea of “as long as we both shall live” would some day never seem long enough.

 

June of 2015, and I am no longer sure I’m a grown-up after all. The Lord has patiently taught me that I know far less than I once assumed… and that’s o.k. He has given me a strong, gentle, loving man to guide me through the rest of my days on earth. I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine. That’s enough.