We Almost Weren't

Andrew and I never went on a honeymoon.

Our wedding, the entire thing, cost us under $300.  We were young college kids living off our parent's generosity.  Convinced we were ready to take on The World, not really knowing what The World even was.

I loved our wedding.

The little tea dress I wore, the homemade cake where I ran out of frosting so the back was just barely covered.  The dinner at an all you can eat fried chicken joint and backyard reception with just our family.

I was never jealous of the elaborate weddings that so many of our friends had, but the honeymoons?  I was a little jealous of that.  It was always on our To Do List.

We'll go after graduation.

We'll go on our 5 year anniversary.

Let's for sure go at 10 years.

This past year has, without question, been the most difficult of our 15 years together.  

The blazing fires we walked through, separately and together, almost did us in.  We had conversations that I never imagined us having.  We felt emotions I didn't know existed.  And after tearing down this whole thing, this entire life we had built, we walked out the other side hand in hand with a brand new relationship that is honest and true.  We know it all.  Nothing is off limits.  There's no keeping quiet to avoid conflict and no pretending something doesn't bother us when it really, really does.

It's a weird feeling to look at someone you've slept next to for 13 (ok, 14) years and feel like they are brand new.  To know that you almost weren't.

But we are.

And we finally got around to taking that honeymoon.

We spent a week in San Diego.

Eating and laughing and lounging in cabanas where they brought us every fruity drink with an umbrella.  I wish I had words to say how great it was other than saying it was perfect, but that's the only word I'm coming up with.

Andrew planned every detail.  He said over and over that he wanted me to feel loved.  And I did.  So loved.  So well taken care of.  He planned the things he knew I would like, even if they weren't his favorites.  And we learned that we have switched places in our vacation style.  He is now the lounger and I am the "let's go out try something new!".

Marriage is hard guys.

Two people growing up and changing and life throwing you nasty curveballs.  You have to stay on your toes and keep at it.  Even with the hard parts, I loved nearly every minute of our first 13 years of marriage.

And I'm really looking forward to the next 13.

We ended our trip by driving back to Arizona and staying at a resort close to home so that these party animals could come celebrate with us.

I look at these little people with new eyes now.

We didn't stay together for the kids.  In fact, we were both very adamant from the start that if that was our only reason, we wouldn't.  During all those 3 AM conversations, we discovered that there were 4 million other reasons.

But they were on the list.

The thought of this picture only having one of us in it breaks my heart.  I'm thankful.

Really, really thankful.

Redemptions

I didn't pick a word for 2015.

When January rolled around, I was still reeling.

From my brother dying.  From my marriage nearly falling apart.  From lost friendships and loneliness and the unfairness of it all.

Had I picked a word on January 1st, it wouldn't have been an accurate depiction of what was to come in the next year.

I had no idea.

That grief is like a rolling tide.  

That I'd feel Aaron in every breath I take and that missing him and loving him and being his little sister, well, those things never end.

That marriages can start again.

That you can wipe away the things of the past and move forward.  That continuing on isn't settling or giving in or resigning to mediocrity, but courageous and life giving and, holy cow, it's real love.

I still miss my friends and have realized that that part is just going to take more time.

We are nearly 7 months into 2015 and I have my word now.

Redemption.

And really, I think it'll just be my life word.

Because when I see where I am, when I look over at Andrew, when I see Josie becoming a lady, when I see Gabe's whole face light up with that big grin, it really is the only thing that comes to mind.

We have been redeemed.

Saved from error.

Each of us on our own and all of us together.

It's the story of our family.

And 5 years ago today, Gabe's redemption story crossed with the rest of ours and, man, I'm so glad it did.

This past week, as Andrew and I celebrated our anniversary on the beach, I couldn't help but go back to the day we got the call about Gabe.  We were doing the same thing, celebrating our anniversary at the beach.  With Josie and David and Amber and Olivia.

We were having the best week and I didn't want to leave.  I wanted to stay and be comfortable and stick to the original plan.  Which is very reflective of how I lived most of my life.

And then:

Gabe.

Well, Javon, then Von, then Baby V, then Gabriel, then Gabe.

Andrew has made quite a few rash decisions that didn't turn out well, but this one?  Telling me I was nuts and throwing all of our stuff in an expensive rental car and driving 8 hours through the night with our tired 3 year old to get back to Georgia and go pick up the boy that would become our son?

Well, he got that one right.

I remember the way he smelled that night.  His grey skin and seeing his scars for the first time.  I remember those deep eyes and fat wrists and, even if it took me awhile to let my guard down, falling in love.

Gabe.  The one I didn't see coming.

Redeemed.

Happy Gotcha Day Sweet Gabriel Gordon.

the rolls!  i can't deal.

Out Of Dry Places

The desert is a crazy place to live.

People aren't supposed to make it here.

It's hot and dry and not a climate naturally inclined to survival.

Sometimes, when I look out over the valley and see all the prickly, sharp, and rocky terrain, I wonder what the first people that came through here thought.  What about it made them think they could survive here?  How did they begin to break down the hard exterior to create a place to settle?

Did they see beyond the desert?  Did they have a vision of what it would look like after a lot of hard work?

I bet a lot of people told them they were crazy.

That there were easier places to be.  Less work, less time.

I bet they had to tune out a lot of naysayers.  Nod their heads as people recited to them how impossible what they were suggesting was.

I bet they watched other people settle for less than what they could have.  I bet there were times they wanted to join them.

The desert feels a lot like my life this past year.

I get why those people kept pushing on, why they stayed even though it didn't make a lot of sense.

I think they knew what I know.

That out of dry, dusty places, comes stark beauty.  The contrast of the green against the brown against the blue, well, it'll take your breath away.  That you don't need lush and perfect conditions to spring forth new life.

Yea, it can be hard.  Sure, you have to want it bad enough.

But it's there.

This past year has been hard in a way I never expected.

And as we approach the anniversary of Gabe's open heart surgery and, after three months, I just now start greiveing the loss of my brother.  As Andrew and I look at each other and, unbelievably, feel more in love than I thought possible.  As I finally settle in to our new home and feel like I can breathe and rest and say I'm home.  As the world keeps spinning and the birds keep singing and life keeps going.

I know that here, in the desert, magic is still real.

beauty in dry places

sedona, arizona

february 2015