This morning, I followed my usual get-ready-for-work routine. Stumble out of bed, shower, lotion, hair, make-up if I feel like it (but usually I don't, you know), clothes, then, and always last, jewelry.
As I slipped on my wedding band and engagement ring, I lingered for a moment. I let myself revisit that place, four years ago, where we stood under a bright blue sky and pledged our love and commitment and unending devotion to each other.
I thought to myself: wasn't that a great day?
Tonight we ate sandwiches from a paper bag for dinner. Quite different from the fancy lobster skewers and potatoes au gratin and bubbly champagne of four years ago. Tonight, instead of a first dance, you sat on the floor of the bedroom with your new drill bits and fixed my squeaky chair. Tonight, in our mutual exhaustion, we snuggled on the couch and enjoyed a new episode of The Office.
You kissed my forehead and rubbed my belly and waited to see if the baby would kick for you.
Wasn't it a great day?
Love and kisses, your devoted wife,