Dear,

Right now I don’t know where to begin.  Introspective moments come and go.  Time continues to march forward and life happens.

I woke this morning and while it has always been real and relevant, I found myself loving you more than ever.  Call it the weather.  Call it the day.  Call it the month.  It’s all of those.  But more importantly, it all traces back to you.  In a moment of introspective inspiration influence by love, our life and its memories we continue to author, and the sound track of our life, I’m driven to write to you today.

And I can’t even remember when the last time I took the time to sit and write to you.  Sure there’s the Post-It notes I’ve left around.  There’s the ridiculous text messages you get from me.  But when was the last time I wrote something of meaning of substance?  Even birthday cards, mother’s day cards, anniversary cards and sound the same from me anymore.  Remember our vows?  Remember the poem about the lion framed in our bedroom?  Remember that long email so many years ago about what you deserve in a relationship?  All of those were so long ago.

Those all originated from the same root feeling even though we didn’t know it.  We were in different emotional spaces for each of those.  Sometimes timing worked for us.  And sometimes it worked against us.  But no matter what stage or emotional space we were in, my life was leading me to you.

How can I list all of the waypoints and signs that should have made us recognize it from the very beginning?  I came up from L.A. to celebrate a wedding in Washington.  What I remember most of that weekend was what your mother said to me as she leaned in the passenger window of your Jeep.  “Take care of my sweet pea.”  And without pause, I gave her my promise.  It was never more clear to me than that one late night at LAX airport just returning from Washington.  I hopped in my roommate’s truck after arriving on a very late flight.  I regurgitated the weekend, the wedding, the people, and the feeling.  He challenged me on what I’d do next.  And right then I knew I was going to make it real.  I’ve told this story a thousand times but it never gets old to me.  That moment of clarity.  That moment I knew.  That moment I knew it was you.

I can still remember the proposal and knowing I was all in.  I still am today.  I had a plan but it was tough to pull off a secret on someone who loathes secrets.  Calling your brother and father for permission were all done while you were away.  Purchasing the ring required some lying.  Working late was a trip to Torrance to visit Robbins Brothers.  Go figure that karma would come back to bite me.  I nearly lost the ring as we pulled up to Jennifer Lopez’s restaurant.  The vale opened the car door.  The ring fell out of my pocket onto the ground in the rainy dark parking lot.  Being smooth on a date while trying to find an engagement ring under your car is a challenge.  Dinner was loud and imperfect.  The proposal on Signal Hill was thwarted due to rain and fog.  I was frustrated and I have no idea if you ever knew what was happening that night.  In the rain, I told you my plan for the evening had two parts; Dinner was one.  And the other was to ask you to marry me.  And like in the movies, there was hugs kisses and tears.  I remember asking if that was a yes.

We can reflect that things weren’t always a fairytale.  We’ve dealt with more in our first 18 months than most couples deal with in a lifetime.  When we bought our first home in Signal Hill, we thought we’d be there for years.  We were making it or at least it seemed like it.  Next, we got married and you rescued a dog and gave it to me on my 30th birthday.  You thought it’d buy you time from having kid.  True story but then the bottom of our life fell out.  How do someone deal with grief and suicidal thoughts as a newlywed?  You never strayed from me when I lost myself in a crumbling mess after he died.  But it got a little tougher on us when we found out your mom’s illness was cancer.  The same woman who made me promise to take care of you was staring at the reality of never seeing a child from you.  We both knew it was time.  Life became moment to moment.  We found out you were carrying Grom #1 and it was time to find an exit strategy out of L.A.  I quit my job and moved back to Washington while you stayed behind to sell the house. pregnant and alone.  Separated after a job change, death, cancer and pregnancy.  On paper, people could have counted us out.  Eventually the house sold, you moved, we found another house.  It wasn’t built yet so we were separated again.  You at your mom’s and me at mine.  Then Grom #1 saved us as we lost your mom.

These scars are our badges for holding on and making it through.

And here we are again.  Writing the next chapter of our life.  You’re in the hospital tonight and I’m alone in this house.  There’s never been a hurdle of life which we haven’t been able to overcome together.  You helped me face all the darkness in me by shining light in the spaces in between.  That kept me believing in myself.  You gave me hope to keep moving forward even when issues were dragging me down.

Somehow we found redemption.  We found a love that’s true.

Yes. We had to grow up from being partiers and punk rockers to become a mom and dad.  Sometimes you can’t avoid being responsible.  But it’s okay to do it with a beer in your hand and your music loud.  As long as we do it together.  After all, we still know how to throw a party.